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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  histcriques 


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D 
D 

n 


n 

D 
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Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
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Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
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SOX 


■kVhmhhi  mm^mmmmmammmmmmmmm^i^mi^mmmmmmmmmmmm^^mmmmmhmi^^^ii^^'f^^i^'^ 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


2BX 


32X 


ire 

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6es 


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empreinte. 

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re 


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reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  11  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  I'nngle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
lllustrant  la  mdthode. 


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CATHERINE  M^AULEY, 

FOUKDBEBS  .AKD  FIB8T  8UPBBI0B  OF  THE  INSTITTJTB  OF 
SELIQIOUa  blBTESS  OF  HCBOT. 


BY  A  MEMBER  OF  THE  OKDEB  OF  MEBCT.  >;, 

'  %wi  c/llt*'^'^    /^-r-i^«t-A^  w<^<-*^'<^   Xl^^l.  r-rit-ti^ 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION, 

BY 

THE  VENEBABLE  RICHARD    BAPTIST    O'BBIElf, 
taxmamLVM  of  ldoouok,  TicAB-«aiiHAi,  >ia;  lonnuT  raonHOH 

or  MOKAL  TUOIOOT  IX  AIX-KUXOWl'  OOIXMl^  BVSUK. 


Job,  xxzl.  IS. 

**Th«  Fomdrcn  wu  bolf,  u£  Mdnntlr  holy.    Her  hatrt  oT*rflow«d  with  tbii  ehtrltj  of 
jMui."— Biaat  Bit.  Bnaor  Blaei. 

"  aod  knowf  I  vonld  rttlin  M  e<M  aad  hnfiy  ttwa  tint  BU  poor  ihoiM  raflkr  wwk"— 

CMBIBIHI  MoASUT. 


Inbltf^t^  foU^  i^t  ^iryrotetloR  of  l^t  ||toet  |U6.  ^rt^In«^o)r  j^tnrith. 


NEW  YORK: 
J.flADLIER  «k  CO.,  31  BARCLAY  STREET. 

MONTRKALii 

COB.  BOTBE-DAMB  AND  BT.  FBAMOIS  ZAYIEB  STSSEISk.^ 

1871.  y^.-  -'  cj,v^ 


MBC-it' 


I 


1     ,>  .1    tMUl.lFK  *  ro   NKW-Y'  ihK 


\  ^1 


,j«iii»iH    I    <       — 

L  I  F  E 

1 

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CATHERINE  M<^ATTLEY, 

POtJNDEESa  ASt)  FlF^iT  W;£'T:R10B  OF  THS  IHSTITTJTE  OF 
'fcJ8l.i43IOt38  !iS»?'Sa*»  «5*  timet. 


BY-  A  MEMBEE  OF  THE  OBDER  OF  MERCY,  ., 

u 
WITH\4N  INTIIODUCTION, 

"If         , 

TUE   VENEEABIJE  RTCUAKD    BAI'TIST    O'BRIET^, 

» 


"  JVom  wjf  :n/aMy,  irnrry  jrrt;-  up  aSA  »*•' 

Job,  xxt).  IS.     . 

"Tills  roandrtH  mt  boljr,  nsid  failotntljr  holy.    Ha  hwtrt  ovpiygiK,,!  witlJ  Ui«  (lurilf  of 
y»«Mii  — Rtgat  R«i,  Bunor  Bi.iii£i. 

■  Ood  kni><r«  I  uranVi  r«thM  be  ceW  Mil  fcujigfjf  thin  tli«»t  Hl«  poor  dioalA  ««ir«r  w»at.'.'— 


f  ahU9|tb  feiili  t|[e  ^^pprctelifln  of  i|e  SP;ot(t  |W>.  ^Irj^jbislfop  JjitRrtflt. 


NEW   YORK; 
iK  A  Jf.  S!A!!>LTSR  A  CO.,  3  1   BARCI-AY  8TBKET. 

con.  MOTUK-UAME  ANJn  ST   FRAJftilS  XAVlK!      ^   ::  ;,l- 


I'-riir.nri  rTiriHrf-f  A, 


IF 


'*\  ■ 


A^'^: 


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9 


Bntored  (MoordlDc  to  A«t  afObngrtn,  In  Um  jtai  ISH^ 

Bt  D.  k  J.  BADLIBS  A  00^ 

tk  the  Clerki  OffiM  of  th«  DIstriot  Oonrt  of  the  Untte£  BtatM  for  tM 
Boatbwn  DUtriet  of  Now  York. 


JOHN  O.  SHEA,  Sttrti^N* 
60  Ctntrt  SIT,  N.  Y. 


■If.dOT 


■  f    I  iwBWi 


VSSSSSStJtKK^    t 


173 


M  A  K  Y, 

m  BRIOHT  BOM  OF  OHABITY;    TH>  8P0TMM  LILY  OF  PUBITT;    TBI 
riUORAOT  TIOLBT  OF  HUMILITT ;    TBB   OL0BI0B8   BXEMPLAB 

OF  BBLioiOD*  pbbhotion;  tub  mothbb  of  mbot, 

THB  MOTHBB  OF  GOD, 
THIS 

LIFE   OP   CATHERINE   MoAULET. 

THB  F38T  8UTXB  OF  HBBOY, 
B 
AFriOTIOlTATILT  DBDIOATID. 


;:■ 


! 


..I...  rill  i|iiM.  I    I yj,  I  |„j  I  m  i^jiii  I ; 


'"^     tr- 


CONTENTS. 


iMiBODVonoir.    By  Bev.  Biohard  Baptist  O'Brien,  D.  D..  etc,  ato Paga    IT 

CHAPTER    I. 

Woman  in  the  Chnroh. — "The  devout  sex." — General  oharaoteriatioa  of 
Catherine  Mc Aulejr. 87 

CHAPTER   II. 

Dablin. — Baggot-atreet  House,  1827. — Era  of  the  Emancipation. — Opening  of 
the  year  1787. — Apostasy  of  Lord  Dunboyne.— Birtli  of  Catherine.— Differ- 
ence of  statements  as  to  the  year  of  her  birth. — An  Eastern  tradition. — Reli- 
gions state  of  Ireland  in  the  18th  centnry.— "^,  Mu»a  &t." — Extract  from 
Oerres.— A  tragedy.— The  Eari  of  Chesterfield,  viceroy.— He  permits  tha 
reopening  of  some  old  Catholio  churches. — Attempts  to  open  schools. — 
Nano  K'agle.— Princess  Louise 41 

CHAPTER   III. 

Jamea  MoAuley,  Esq.— His  seal  for  instructing  children.— Little  Catherina 
Eleanor  McAuley.— Domestic  altercations.— Death  of  Mr.  MoAnley. — 
Besponsibility  of  parents.— Ghosts  in  Stormanstown  Honse. — Its  inmates 
remove  to  Dublin. — Madame  St.  Qeorge. — Mrs.  MoAnley's  eariy  training, 
and  its  consequences.— Her  judicious  mode  of  governing  children. — 
Catherine  on  "good  manners."— Death  of  her  mother. — Its  influence  on 
Catherine.— The  contrast  between  the  deaths  of  the  mother  and  daughter. — 
Catherine's  seat  for  preparing  children  for  Confirmation. M 

CHAPTER   IV. 

Snrgeon  Conway.— Catherine  and  Mary  removed  from  all  Catholio  inflnenoe.— 
The  two  Cathedrals  of  Dublin.— Amiability  of  Catherine.— She  eMays  to  writa 
Latin  exercises.- The  pedagogue.— Catherine's  religions  diffionlties.- Her 
esteem  for  her  Protestant  friends.— Her  theological  and  historical  studies. 
—Surgeon  Conway's  financial  reverse, — Catherine's  cheerfulness  under 
affliction. — She  is  adopted  by  the  wealthy  owner  of  Coolock  House. — Dean 
Lub4.— Very  Bev.  Dr.  Betagb. U 


3 


— ^ 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    y. 

Catherine  instructed  by  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Murray. — Mr.  Callahan.— His  portrait- 
Mrs.  Callahan. — Her  generosity. — An  unfortanate  alliance. — Another. — A 
death-bed. — Catherine's  godchild,  Teresa. — Importance  of  prayer  and  delib* 
•ration  before  choosing  a  state  in  life 7i 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Dr.  James  MoAuIey.— Dr.  William  McAuley.— Table-talk.— Calberine'o  eon- 
sideratenesa  for  converts. — Bigotry  usually  the  result  of  early  training.— 
Catherine's  life  at  Coolock.— Her  trials. — Her  zeal  for  the  poor. — Her  vieWB 
on  the  importance  of  the  education  of  women  of  the  lover  classes 80 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  soul  Id  danger.— The  Servants'  Asylum.— The  lost  sheep. — Sbadows  of 
coming  events.— Catherine's  efforts  to  make  the  poor  industrious.- Her  mod- 
erate expectations. — The  rich  man  and  his  heiress 69 


CHAPTER    VIIL 

Oonversion  of  Mrs.  Callahan.— Her  death. — Her  husband's  grief. — ^Rev.  Mr. 

M prescribes  vint  as  a  preparation  to  die  well.    The  new  gospellers  and 

the  old. — Mr.  Callahan's  conversion  and  death. — ^His  will.— 'Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Armstrong. — His  disinterestedness 98 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Catherine's  fortune. — Her  charities. — Death  of  her  only  sister. — Mr.  WiUiama' 
grief.— An  exciting  scene.— Catherine's  midnight  sortie.— The  sentinels.— 
The  reconciliation.— Her  hair  becomes  "  gray,  but  not  with  years." Ul 

CHAPTER  X. 

Beauty  everywhere. — Something  lovely  ia  every  one. — Mary  Teresa  McAnley.— 
She  evinces  a  desire  to  become  a  Catholic— Her  aunt's  devotion  w  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.— The  Mia  Culpa 190 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Projects  of  the  Foundress. — First  stone  of  Baggot-street  House  laid.— V.  B. 
Dr.  Blake's  presentiment. — He  ia  summoned  to  Rome  to  restore  the  Irish 
College.— Miss  Fanny  Tighe.—Miis  McAnley ■■  architects  build  a  Convent- 
Very  Rev.  Dr.  Armstrong's  illness  and  death.— Mr.  Callahan'6  will  con- 
tested.- The  Institution  opened.— Action  «<rnM  contemplation.— Extracts 
from  Ven.  Archdeacon  O'Brien 196 


[K, 


iot.  I.,  ■■.!■«  jtB;»<.'".r'sr 


OOIITEKTB. 


portrait- 
other.— A 
md  dellb- 
74 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Mother  McAnley's  wsociates  aMnrne  a  distinctive  dresg.— Her  relativea  arg« 
her  to  marry. — H^jor  W.'a  constinoy.— A  scene. — An  amniing  incident.—' 
Mary  Teresa  not  allowed  to  associate  with  her  aant.— The  Captain's  theology.— 
Hia  recollections  of  Waterloo.— Seventy  and  mildness. — Intolerance  on  the 
decrease. — ^Dr.  'WilliamB*  death. — A  scene  between  the  guardiana  of  his 
children ISA 


rine'o  ooift- 
training.— 
-Her  views 
80 


CHAPTER  3:111. 

The  O'Connell  family.— The  Liberator  a  Scruple  Doctor.- Hia  Breech  in  » 
school-room.- His  interest  in  the  new  Institute.— He  dines  with  the-  poor 
ohUdren 14« 


Shadows  of 
—Her  mod- 
89 


;— Bev.  Mr. 
spellers  and 
iry  Bev.  Dr. 
S8 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Our  Lady  of  Mercy.— Accessions.— Rev.  Father  Lcstrange.— Very  Bev.  Father 
O'Hanlon's  Novitiate.— The  Military  and  Beligions  Order  of  Our  Lady  of 
Mercy. — Sisters  of  Mercy  founded  by  Princess  Teresa  Doria.— Dedication  of 
the  Chapel  in  Baggot-street.— Opposition  to  the  Institute.— Extract  from  Dr. 
Blake's  sermon. — Charitable  institutions  founded  in  Ireland  during  the  last 
century. — Foundresses-"  C.  McAnley,  Esq." — Severity  of  the  Archbishop. — 
Anomalous  position  of  the  Institute.— Dr.  Blake's  kindness.- Kindness  of 
several  religious  houses. — The  Presentation  Bule. — Catherine  enters  George's 
Hill  Convent.— Sister  M,  Mogdaleu  Flynn. — Indulgences  granted  to  the  new 
Institute 148 


Williama' 
sentinels.— 
...  HI 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Use  of  the  Novitiate.— The  Novice  and  tiie  Mistress.— Incidents  of  Catherine'* 
Novitiate.— Trials. — Catherine's  reception.- Behind  the  ^ri^.— Eminent  vir- 
tues Catherine  obsc>rved  in  the  Abbess  and  Beligions  of  Geoige'a  Hill.— 
Pupils  of  the  Presentation  Nuns 16S 


MoAnley.— 
>tlon  vo  the 

...  IM 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Caroline  Murphy.— Caroline,  Princess  of  Wales.— A  seraphic  death.— rstraor- 
dinary  kindness  of  the  Carmelite  Fahers.— New  trials  for  Sister  Mary 
Catherine 170 


iiad.-v.  B. 

>r«  the  Irtth 
Convent- 
will  oon- 
n.— EztraoU 
....  1«6 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Bister  M.  Catheriae's  Profession.— Her  return  to  Baggot-stroet.— Her  first  leo- 
ture. — Extracts  from  her  instruotions. — Her  mode  of  correcting.— The  offloa 
of  Superior.— How  Mother  McAuIey  exercised  it.— One  paragraph  suffices  for 
rules  and  constitution  for  the  Institute. — A  generous  rival. — Mother  MoAnley 
combines  the  active  and  ccatemplative  lives.— Intercourse  with  seculars.  178 


i  i 


8 


.    CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Tiie  first  Reception. — Costume  of  the  Ordv-r  devised  by  the  Fonndress.— Gen^ 
eral  end  of  all  Orders.— Special  end  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. — Mother  Mo- 
Aaley'x  arrangements  for  the  protection  of  distressed  women.— She  insista 
that  they  shall  be  governed  by  u.l.dness. — "  A  shirt  for  the  Lord-Lieutonant" 
causes  a  little  commotion. — Contrasts. — A  soul  rescued 181 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

Visitation  of  the  sick. — How  Mother  MoAuley  caused  the  public  hospitals  to 
be  opened  to  all  religicMS  bodies  that  chose  to  visit  them.— The  poor,  the 
middle  class,  and  the  rich. — Court  life  at  Versailles  considered  by  Madame 
Louise  to  be  more  monotonous  than  conventual  life. — "  Qood  Queen  Maude." 
—The  poor  the  treasures  of  the  Church. — Anecdotes 191 

CHAPTER   XX. 

Mother  McAuley's  views  on  education. — ^The  regulations  she  made. — Catholic 
aud  Non-Catholic  educationists. — Anecdote. — Pestalozzi,  Bell,  Lancaster, 
Jacotot.— TUe  Eildare-stroet  schools.- The  National  Board.— The  Christian 
Brothers. — Gerald  Griffin's  grave. — Catholic  priests  inaugurators  of  gratuitooe 
instruction. — Education  of  the  middle  classes. — Effect  the  example  of  our 
great  edueatiouista  ought  to  have  on  those  engaged  in  education 201 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

New  trials.— Death  of  Sister  Aloysia  O'Orady.— Illness  and  death  of  Sister  M. 

'   Elizabeth  Uarley. — Besignatiou  of  the  Foundress.- Supernatural  joy  at  the 

death  of  a  member,  always  characteristic  of  Religions  Orders SSO 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  cholera  in  Uai. — Zeal  of  the  Catholic  Clergy. — Excitement  of  the  people.— 
Mother  McAntey  takes  charge  of  the  Cholera  Hospital,  Townsend-street. — 
The  garrulous  nurse.— Extract  iVom  Dean  Qoffney'a  Memoir  of  the  Foun- 
dretd 836 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Distress  of  the  poor  in  1882.— The  Duchess  of  Kent.— The  Princess  Victoria.— 
The  Catholic  queens. — A  royal  donation. — New  accessions. — ^Profession,- 
Extract  fVom  Very  Rev.  Dominic  Murphy.— Mary  Teresa  McAuley's  interview 
with  the  Archbishop. — Her  last  days.-  -Her  death. — Grief  of  the  Foundress.  229 

CHAPT'dJR  XXIV. 

Rule  and  Constitutions  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. — Lay  Sistart.  —Very  Rev.  James 
Rice. — Oppoiiition  to  the  new  Institute. — The  Pope  scuds  his  approbation,  and 
iis  apostolic  benediction  to  its  members. — Mother  MoAuley  gives  an  aucount 
of  the  foundation  of  the  Order.- Letters 289 


^■iweWWfWSP? 


C0NTEKT8. 


9 


ess.— Gen» 
[other  Mo- 
She  inuisU 
jieutonant" 
181 


hospitals  to 
Id  poor,  the 
by  Madame 
en  Maude." 

m 


e. — Catholio 
,  Lancaster, 
be  Christian 
of  gratuitous 
mple  of  our 
201 


of  Sister  M. 
ral  joy  at  the 
880 


the  people.— 
jend-street.— 
of  the  Foun- 
886 


iss  Viotoria.— 
-Profeasion.— 
ley's  interview 
foundress.  889 


ry  Rev,  James 
iprobation,  and 
ves  an  aooount 
88» 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"IJttle  Catherine."— Generosity  of  the  Ft.-.">dr«s«.— The  Lord  Bishop  of  Dro- 
more. — Chief  events  of  his  life.— His  eonneotion  with  the  Foundress.-  -His 
love  for  the  Institute 848 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Virtues  of  the  Foundress. — ^Faitb. — Hope. — Charity.— Prudence. — Justice. — 
Fortitude.— Temperanoe.—Humility. — Obodieoce.— Chastity.— Poverty. — De- 
ToMon  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament. — ^Anecdotes SM 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

T|ie  First  Branch.— The  wreck  off  Dnnleary  harbor.— The  excommnnioation, 

'  anditM  consequences. — Sussex-place  House.— Trials.— Mother  McAuley  hiding 

from  the  sheriff.- Her  letters.— A  beautiful  specimen. — Kingstown  convent 

relinqnlahed.— Beopened.— Glastlinle 878 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  Tnllamore  Foundation.—Sermon  of  Very  Kev.  Dr.  Ourtis,  8.  J.— Mother 
Mary  Anne  Doyle.— Father  Mathew.— Generosity  of  the  Foundress.— Tnl- 
lamore will  neither  lend  nor  give.—**  A  bitter  soolding  for  Tnllamore,  and 
three  cheers  for  Coflow." 887 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Mother  McAuley  and  her  absent  children. — Bhymes.— Her  mode  of  preparing 
Sisters  for  Superiority.— Her  advice  to  a  young  Superior.— The  Charleville 
Foundation.— Very  Be  v.  Mr.  Croke.- -Sister  M.  Angela  Dunne. — ^Mother 
MoAuley  refuses  to  give  a  colony  to  her  firiend,  ths  Bishop  of  Ossory. — Other 
applioants. 894 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Very  Bev.  Andrew  Fiti^erald,  D.  B.— The  McAuley  boys.— The  Doctor  and 
the  Monk.— Young  men's  sermons.— Bight  Bev.  Dr.  Nolan.— Dr.  Doyle's 
error. — Mother  McAuley's  temptation,  and  its  remedy. — She  Voses  two  of  her 
Sisters. — Sets  out  for  Carlow. — The  Bisters'  entrie.—Schools  for  the  middle 
classes.— The  silver  breakftist  service.— Death  of  Bishop  Nolan.— Letter  of 
the  Fonndress.— Letter  fVom  Dr.  Fitsgerald 806 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

The  Cork  Foundation.— Miss  Barbara  Qoold.— "  Saint  Mar'.Vs  of  the  Isle."— 
The  Foundress  incurs  the  displeasure  of  the  Bishop. — "  Catherine  the  Less." 
—An  eligible  postulaute.— The  Meeting  of  the  Waters.- Largo,  Lento,  a 
Grave.— Death  of  Little  Catherine.— Her  Aunt's  letter.— Df.  Murphy.— Severe 
retort.— A  heavy  purse  and  a  fair  escutcheon.- The  English  Bisters.— A 

compliment. 888 

1* 


■.I'.'    ■»IIHH 


10 


30NTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Bister  U.  >^*  Chaiital.— Deaths.— A  brokeu  arm.—"  A  boy  that  will  not  b« 
good."— The  Chaplaincy  diffionltiea.— Letters.  —  Dean  Meyler.— "  Obrist'a 
Blessed  Cross."— The  Liineriok  Foundation.— Death  of  Sister  M.  Teresa  Pot- 
ter.—Letter  of  oondolenoe Ul 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Sister  M.  Oertmde  Jones.— She  shows  her  brightest  oolors  in  dying.— Death  of 
Kobert  MoAuIey.— The  English  Sisters.- National  pride.— "  Geraldinf."— 
The  last  glimpse  of  Erin.- Visit  to  Newiy.- Departure  of  the  Fonndress  for 
th^.  London  mission 84S 

CHAPTER    XXXIV 

Oeneral  govemment.- Lady  Barbara  Eyre.— Her  Reoeption.— The  Conrt  Fri- 
•eiA-.— An  amusing  incident.— Gratitude  of  the  Foundress.— Letten. ... .  85S 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Oalway.— "  A  second  Mary  Teresa."— The  English  Sisters.— The  Lanndry.— 
Dr.  Griflths  entrer.ta  more  aid  for  Bermondsey. — ^Beception  of  the  Sistera  for 
the  Birmingham  Foundation.— BecepUon  in  Galway.— Difficulties  —Very 
Bev.  Peter  Daly 86T 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

The  Apostle  of  Temperance  and  the  Sister  of  Meroy.— A  Howard  among  the 
TeetoUlers.—Blrr.— Worse  feuds  than  the  "  O'CarroU  Feuds."— The  Apostle's 
expedient. — The  Crottyltes.- Mother  MoAuley  on  the  progress  of  Tempe- 
tance.- Letters  fVom  Birr.- Conversion  of  Bev.  Mr.  Crotty.— "The  sun 
■hlnes  too  brightly"  for  the  Foundress 877 

CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Fresh  objections  to  the  Institute.- Beverend  Mother  appeals  to  Borne.— Let- 
ter.— She  loses  the  last  of  her  "  earthly  joys."- Her  warm  attachment  to  her 
relatives.— The  Naas  Convent.— A  severe  letter.— O'Connell's  speech  at  Car- 
rick-on-Suir.-  -rbe  Wexford  Convent— A  spoiled  Tocation 889 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Declining  health  of  the  Foundress.— The  English  Sisters.  — Letter  of  the 
Bishop  of  Birmingham.— Bishop  Wiseman. —  The  Bishop  of  Liverpool.— 
Miss  G ,  of  Eaton  Housa.— Benewal  of  the  Liverpool  negotiations.- Let- 
ter of  Dr.  Yonens,— Dr.  Pusey.— Confirmation  of  the  Bnle,— The  Blrmiog- 
bam  Foundation 888 


MiHMi 


OONTENTO. 


u 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

B«tnm  of  the  London  Superioress.— Innovations  and  reformation*. — UnfiiTOiv 
able  Beport  by  an  English  priest. — ^Vei-y  Kev.  Dr.  Batler  oongratulates  him- 
self on  being  independent  of  "  borrowed  plumes."— Stormy  nationality. — 
Forbearance  of  the  Foundress.— Visions.— Bishop  Baines.—"  Where  Paul 
and  I  differ." — ^Tlie  lady  who  has  had  the  visions  secedes.— She  goes  to  Borne, 
—la  protected  by  Cardinals  Acton  and  Fransone.— She  gives  her  revelatiofiS 

•  in  a  Catholic  novel..— The  "  Solitaries"  and  "  Handmaids"  disperse.— Their 

*  projector  writes  another  story ,— Why  did  she  lea ve  ns  t 407 

CHAPTER    XL. 

The  Foundress  writes  to  thv.  Bishop  of  Galway.— Her  return  to  Ireland.— Let- 
ters to  Very  Bev.  Dr.  Burke,  of  Westport ;  to  Sister  M.  Joseph  Joyce ;  to 
Mother  Teresa  White.— Her  oo~itinued  interest  in  her  Houses.- Her  xeid. — 
Old  opinions  about  the  New  World 4S8 

CHAPTER   XLI. 

All  Saints'  Day. — All  Souls'  Day Joy  of  the  Foundress  at  the  approach  of 

death.— She  receives  the  Last  Sacraments.- Her  last  moments. — The  ruling 
passion  strong  in  death.- Her  obsequies.- The  remains  of  her  departed  chil- 
dren are  brought  home.— Her  personal  app'>arance.— Her  portrait.— Statistiea 
of  the  Order. 480 

CHAPTER    XLII. 

Letter  of  Bishop  Blake.— Letter  of  Dr.  Oaffney,  Dean  of  Maynooth.— Obitoaiy, 
fVom  the  Sal^fam  BegUter , 448 

CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Mother  MoAuley's  views  on  various  subjects.  —  Gentleness.— St.  Anselm. — 
St.  Catherine  of  Bologna. — Sweetness  and  condescension. — Importance  of 
the  education  of  women.— Patron  Sainta. — Amusing  anecdote. — Converts. — 
Kegular  ol)8ervance.— Works  of  literature  and  art.— M.  l'Abb4  Qrou.— 
Mother  MoAuley's  special  devotiona,- Her  abstraction. — Her  appreeiation  of 
the  Sisters. — Her  nnbounded  conAdence  in  them. — Profession  and  renovation. 
Prayer.— De  La  Mennais. — Conclusion 448 

CHAPTER   XLIV. 

Baggot-itrest  Convent— St.  Paul's  Hoipital,  Jervis-itreet— The  Mater  Miieri- 
oordin— The  Female  Kefarmatory 4S8 


■I 


OTBWliw«il|Uff,uu»i  ■«'iit;y-'""'"«nii  -,'.'ii"*'*«fw*npiww^!W*i  iinwi  i      ■iim   i 


12  OOMTEKTS. 

APPENDIX. 

L«tt«n 478 

Lift  of  the  Conrenti,  eto.,  foonded  by  Mother  MoAuIey 4M 

R.  I.  P.— Obituiy 495 

Coarenti  of  Mercy  founded  up  to  the  yew  1863 008 


Sgigjaatifcafi 


478 
4M 
495 
SOS 


PREFACE. 


MOBE  fortunate  than  the  other  Foundresses  of  Beli- 
gions  Institutes  in  Ireland,  Catherine  McAuley's 
memory  has  been  preserved,  not  only  in  the  traditions  of 
her  children,  but  also  by  the  pen  of  able  and  distinguished 
biographers.  The  first  account  of  her  was  published  in 
the  DtMin  Beview,  by  her  friend.  Very  Eeverend  Mile- 
tius  Gaffhey,  Dean  of  Maynooth  CoUbge,  in  1847.  Where 
he  and  her  other  historians  disagree,  we  follow  him  in 
preference  to  any  other,  because,  as  her  friend  and  spirit- 
ual director,  he  had  abundant  opportimities  of  acquir- 
ing accurate  information,  and  was,  in  several  instances, 
an  eye-witness  of  what  he  relates.  This  sketch,  however, 
is  very  short — about  ten  pages. 

In  1848,  a  biography  was  commenced  by  Mother  M. 
Teresa  Wildridge,  of  the  Oon-^ent  of  Mercy,  Cork.  TMs 
lady,  whose  memory  is  still  held  in  benediction  jy  the 
poor  of  the  city  ia  which  she  passed  her  short  but  full 
Eeligious  career,  was  equally  fitted  by  her  piety  and  tal- 
ent to  accomplish  this  useful  undertaking.  But  she  was 
called  to  a  brighter  world  ere  she  could  complete  her 
task.  Very  Kev.  Dominic  Murphy,  Dean  of  the  Diocese 
of  Cork,  continued  her  work.  His  connection  with  the 
Order  as  friend,  benefactor,  or  confessor,  gave  him  ample 
opportunities  of  learning  facts  connected  with  the  Foun- 
dress, whom  his  solid  piety  and  judgment  enabled  him  to 
appreciate  as  she  deserves.    We  have  been  informed  that 


ll 


y 


14 


FBEFAOS. 


this  learned  olorgjman  delivered  a  course  of  lectures  on 
"  Fotmdrasses  of  Active  Orders,"  several  of  which  were 
devoted  to  the  Foundress  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  but 
these,  we  regret  to  say,  have  not  been  published.  For 
some  reason  or  other,  Dean  Murphy's  "  Life"  was  not 
published.  It  contains  about  fifty  pages,  and  is  rather  a 
dissertation  on  the  duties  of  the  Oi  der  of  Mercy,  than  a 
biography  of  its  Foundress. 

A  short  sketch  of  the  Foundress  by  "  a  Sister  in  Lim- 
erick," also  remains  unpublished. 

About  five  years  ago.  Mother  Mary  Y.  Hartnett,  of 
Boscommon,  wrote  a  "  Memoir"  of  the  Foundress,  "  from 
her  own  personal  knowledge,  and  the  narrations  of 
others."  This  was  published,  with  a  fine  Litro«^uotion  by 
the  present  Archdeacon  of  Limerick.  The  style  is  simple 
and  affectionate,  occasionally  more  like  a  panegyric  than 
a  history.  Mother  McAuley  is  evidently  the  writer's 
ideal  of  every  thing  noble,  beautiful,  and  holy.  The  sweet 
and  genile  spirit  of  Mother  Hartnett,  which,  indeed,  was 
formed  on  that  of  the  Foundress,  has  lately  been  sum- 
moned from  this  vale  of  tears.  This  "  Memoir"  contains 
two  hundred  pages,  12mo.  The  preceding  sketches  are 
partially  included  in  it. 

The  Authoress  of  the  present  "  Life,"  in  every  other 
way  inferior  to  the  above  biographers,  has  had  one  ad- 
vantage over  them,  that  of  being  able  to  draw  upon  more 
ample  sources  for  the  information  she  has  collected ;  as 
the  narrations  of  several  of  the  early  companions  of  the 
Foundress,  her  letters  and  other  writings,  the  traditions 
of  the  Order,  and  a  Memoir  specially  written  for  this 
work  by  the  godchild  of  the  Foundress.  The  letters 
which  form  the  most  valuable  part  of  the  book,  are  mostly 
copied  from  the  originals,  now  chiefly  in  possession  of 
a  venerable  Religious,  whose  kindness  in  permitting 
us  to  use  them  we  here  gratefully  acknowledge.    We  are 


of: 


mssismMmm 


PBEFACB. 


16 


also  indebted  to  this  lady — one  of  the  oldest  mombew 
of  the  Order — for  several  incidents  of  the  early  life  of  the 
Foundress. 

If,  notwithstanding  all  our  efforts  to  verify  each  cir- 
cumstance connected  with  Catherine  McAuley,  any  inac- 
curacies be  found  in  this  work,  they  may  be  easily  recti- 
fied in  a  future  edition,  as  the  brother  of  the  Foundress 
and  several  of  her  early  associates  are  still  living ;  and 
should  they  deteot  any  error,  which  they  will  readily  do 
if  it  exist,  they  have  only  to  communicate  with  us. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  add,  that  in  using  the  word 
"Blessed"  or  "Venerable,"  or  applying  the  term  f  heroic" 
to  any  virtue  of  which  we  treat,  we  do  not  presuii/e  to 
anticipate  the  judgment  of  that  Church  of  which  it  is  our 
highest  privilege  to  be  a  member.  We  use  such  terms 
merely  as  they  are  ordinarily  used  with  reference  to  those 
who  are  reputed  to  have  died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity. 
With  the  Decree  of  Urban  VIII.  before  our  eyes,  we 
have,  perhaps,  been  overcautious  in  this  respect,  fearful 
lest  in  our  ignorance  we  should  exceed  the  proper  limits. 
Yet  Very  Eev.  Dr.  O'Brien,  as  we  have  lately  seen,  does 
not  scruple  to  spoak  of  Catherine  MoAuley  as  possessing 
"  heroic  sanctity,"  and  as  "  a  person  whom  we  may  one 
day  expecii  to  see  raised  on  the  Altars  of  the  Chuzoh." 

ConvxiiT  OF  OuB  Ladi  of  Mbbot, 

St.  Louis,  MiaBoori. 
FKUt  of  Ou"  Lady  ofMtrey,  1866. 


Dean  Murphy'i  work,  above  aUuded  to,  hai  lino*  been  publiahed  in  "  SketobM 
of  Iriih  Nunaeriei."    Dublin  t  JuB«i  Dnffjr. 


I 


■WM* 


is? =»'J4'S;S«St<:''' ''>B»«t?3* 


iHia 


INTRODUCTION. 


Bt  Vkbt  Rbv.  KIOHARD  BAPTIST  O'BBIElSr,  D.  D.,  «to.,  im 


Thrbk  ore  many  and  edifying  reasons  for  publishing  tlie  following 
"Litie;"  bat  were  there  no  other  than  the  nnmber  of  Gonvents  of 
Mercy  now  established  in  every  part  of  the  world,  the  reason  would 
be  more  than  sufficient.  Over  three  thousand  religious  ladies,  attracted 
by  the  spirit  of  Oatherine  McAuley,  now  minister  to  want,  and  labor 
to  redeem  ignorance,  in  almost  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  it  must 
bd  deeply  interesting  to  them  to  know  the  life  of  their  Foundress ; 
while  that  larger  number  who  have  partuken  of  the  benefits  of  her 
great  Institute — ^those  who  have  long  admired,  atid  those  who  may 
feel  the  first  movements  of  grace  towards  sharing  its  merits  and 
labors,  must  necessarily  desire  to  contemplate  the  model  upon  which 
the  Sisters  of  Mercy  have  been  formed.  Indeed,  such  a  life  will 
be  interesting  to  every  class  of  Catholics.  Almost  every  reading 
family  has  some  object  of  affection  among  the  cloisters  of  Mercy,  or 
can  point  to  a  quiet  grave  where  a  sister  of  their  kindred  reposes  in 
the  convent  cemetery ;  and  to  read  the  life  of  Oatherine  MoAuley  is 
like  bringing  back  and  around  us  the  gentle  beings  whose  virtues  we 
trace,  while  we  follow  the  career  of  their  spiritual  Mother,  who  begot 
them  in  Ohrist  Jesus. 

But  there  is  something  of  even  more  general  interest  than  that 
referred  to,  and  which  would  seam  to  demand  the  present  publication. 
The  manifestations  of  heroic  sanctity  which,  from  timo  to  time,  Ood 
Almighty  inspires  and  produces,  have  their  objects  remote  as  well  as 
immediate,  and  are  intended  to  subserve  the  one  as  well  as  the  other. 
In  the  v'ifor  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity  the  Church  lives;  and, 
although  the  life  and  beauty  of  individual  perfection  may  in  many 
cases  be  like  the  desert  flower,  hidden  from  every  eye  but  that  of  God 
and  His  Heavenly  Court,  there  are  many  others  in  which  He  moat 


18 


INTRODUCTION. 


evidentlj  wishes  that  they  Bhoald  ahine  forth  like  "  light  in  the  dark 
place"*  of  our  pilgrimage,  for  the  guidance,  encouragement,  and  hope  of 
the  world.  Thej  have  their  allotted  place  and  appointed  work  in 
their  time  or  epoch ;  but,  beyond  local  limits  and  temporary  results, 
their  mission  is  to  the  future  preaching  of  the  gospel  of  perfect  love, 
and  revealing  the  embodiment  of  perfect  religious  devotion. 

And  in  the  life  of  Catherine  MoAuley  will  be  fonnd  the  most  striking 
proofs  of  heroism  of  almost  every  description,  united  to  a  prudence 
which  never  allowed  enthusiasm  to  control  common  sense.  There  will 
be  found  a  passiveness  that  looks  almost  like  insensibility,  and  a  firm- 
ness unshaken  in  every  trial ;  a  recollection  that  never  slept,  and  a 
sweet  joy  which  was  never  clouded  by  pain  or  apprehension.  Per- 
haps no  one  could  be  more  sensitive,  and  none  more  patient.  No  one 
could  labor  more  intensely,  and  no  one  could,  with  more  equanimity, 
see  the  fmits  of  pain  and  sacrifice  utterly  destroyed.  She  had  a  soul 
of  tUe  softest  feeling,  and  at  the  same  time  a  most  resolute  will.  Tadol- 
gent  and  rigorous,  exacting  and  liberal,  prodigal  when  God's  glory  was 
concerned,  and  sparing  to  a  degree,  where  charity  wonld  permit  the 
lessening  of  individual  comfort ;  tried  by  every  ordeal,  physical  and 
moral,  and  changeless  in  every  vicissitude ;  overwhelmed  with  cares 
and  labors,  yet  never  hurried  or  excited ;  utilizing  not  only  hours  but 
moments,  yet  wondering  how  one  so  imperfect  could  accomplish  any 
thing ;  ever  the  most  dif&dent,  and  always  the  most  confident ;  receiv- 
ing gifts  of  Divine  bounty  with  fea^"  and  crosses  with  joy;  praising 
Qod  with  gratitude  for  the  one,  and  looking  upon  the  other  ao  harbin- 
gers of  coming  benediction ;  the  certain  calm  of  one  who  "  knew  in 
whom  she  trusted"  reigned  over  her  whole  career,  and  diffused  itself 
in  such  serene  tranquillity  around  her  death-bed,  that,  as  St.  Bernard 
says  of  St.  Malachy's  departure,  no  one  could  know  which  was  the 
repose  that  stole  over  Crod's  servant,  that  of  sweet  sleep  or  that  of  the 
grave.  '■^ 

Such  will  the  following  pages  reveal  Gatherine  McAuley  to  have 
been ;  and  such  she  will  appear  to  have  become  by  an  instinct,  rather 
than  by  reasoning  or  gradnal  formation — a  real  child  of  His  covenant 
who  was  to  establish  the  offspring  of  Israel  as  "universally  taught  of 
♦Ijc  Lord."  And  yet  the  events  of  her  life  may  seem  common  enough. 
And  her  moral  greatness — what  we  would  in  all  humility  call  her 
heroic  sanctity — partook  of  the  nature  of  these  events,  as  in  some 
manner  they  should,  because  ordinary  ftiots  will  generally  be  treated 

•XI  Pet  i.  18. 


INTHODUCTION, 


19 


in  ordinary  ways.  She  was  auetere  to  berselfl  bat  the  full  amonnt  of 
her  mortification  was  bnried  with  her  in  Christ,  and  can  never  be 
known.  Often  she  contrived  to  be  the  only  one  in  the  convent  who 
had  no  cell  to  rest  in,  and  she  was  always  the  only  one  who  had  no 
cessation' from  toil  The  obligation  of  satisfying  the  opposing  views 
of  ill-tempered  patrons,  and  bearing  the  ire  which  punished  her  for 
not  effecting  impossibilities  or  practising  absurdities,  natm-ally  fell  to 
her  share.  With  all  this  the  "nominal"  meal  in  the  refectory  comes 
to  onr  mind,  and  the  "discipline"  so  habitual  with  her  that  only  a 
day  or  two  before  her  death  she  bade  it  fkrewell,  when  wet  with  her 
blood  she  handed  it  to  the  eister  who  waited  onlier  and  commanded 
her  to  bum  it  Bat  ell  was  nothing  to  her  sinless  life,  her  recolleo- 
tibn,  her  sweetness,  and  that  "facility"  of  performing  acts  of  devoted- 
''"fls  above  and  beyond  the  ordinary  acts  of  good  people,  in  which 
Beixidiot  XIV.  places  heroic  virtue.  "  He  who  possesses  it,"  says  this 
great  pontiff  "works  with  ease,  readiness,  and  delight  above  the 
ordinary  measure  for  a  supernatural  end;  and  so  without  human 
reasoning,  with  an  abnegation  of  self,  and  with  an  entire  subjection  of 
the  passions."  As  we  quoted  St.  Bernard's  life  of  St.  Malachy,  we 
may  give  Bartoli's  words  regarding  Cardinal  Bellarmine ;  for  one  and 
the  other  seem  formed  on  the  same  model  as  the  foundress  of  the 
Order  of  Mercy.  And  why  should  it  not  be  so?  Those  "who  put 
on  the  Lord  Jesns  are  one  spirit  with  him,"  and  the  spirit  governs  the 
deeds.  Thus  Bartoli  speaks  of  the  venerable  servant  of  God  of  whom 
we  have  made  mention : 

"Many  would  think  they  heard  a  miracle  of  virtue  if  we  told  them 
that,  for  seventy-nine  years.  Cardinal  Bellarmine  wore  a  hair  shirt, 
and  that  his  loins  were  girt  with  a  heavy  iron  chiun,  which  he  wore 
all  his  life.  But  they  would  not  think  the  same  if  we  told  ;;hem, 
what  in  fact  is  true,  that  for  seventy-nine  year',  of  his  life  he  never 
stained,  by  venial  sin  deliberately  committed,  the  innocence  of  his 
baptismal  robe ;  and  yet,  mach  less  perfection  of  virtue  is  required  for 
a  man  to  subjugate  and  tame  his  body  by  fastbigs,  watchings,  and 
bloody  sooci^ings,  than  in  every  variety  of  accidents  to  keep  the  af- 
fections of  his  mind  so  subject  to  the  spirit,  as  that  they  never  btir — 
never  make  themselves  felt,  or  show  their  life,  except  only  so  far  as 
when  he  pleases.  It  is  not  the  perfection  of  virtue  that  it  should  be 
visible  or  create  a  stir ;  the  deeper  great  rivers  are,  the  more  silently 
they  flow." 

One  thing  which  must  stride  the  most  cursory  reader  of  this  life, 
Is,  how  little  Catherine  herself  knew  of  the  mission  for  which  the 


ii 


20 


INTilODUCTION. 


Almighty  had  destined  her.  Like  St.  Francis  Assist,  St.  Dominic,  St 
Ignatiu.1,  and  nearly  all,  if  not  qnite  all,  the  fonnders  of  religions  orders, 
she  looks  the  passive  instrument  of  God's  love  for  man,  "worked  by 
the  Spirit,"  as  the  children  of  Ood  are,  and  for  the  beneficent  object 
of  becoming  the  stewardess  of  celestial  bounty  to  those  whom  the 
world  passes  by.  She  wishes  to  bnild  a  school  for  poor  girls,  rnd  her 
architect  builds  a  convent ;  she  engages  a  few  ladies  to  help  her,  and 
for  convenience'  sake,  they  begin  to  take  a  spare  meal  on  the  premises. 
Religion  suggests  a  parb  grave  as  their  occupations,  and  a  dark  cos- 
tume is  assumed;  intercourse  begets  the  name  of  "Sister,"  at  first 
playfully  applied,  and  spiritual  authority  is  offended  at  the  usurpation ; 
thus  the  casually  associated  little  band  have  insensibly  come  within 
the  charmed  circle  of  monastic  feelings  and  habits ;  its  spirit  has  in- 
sensibly  stolen  in  among  them,  and  shaped  their  lives  and  ordinary 
practices,  until  at  length  they  stand  on  the  threshold  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  retrogression  or  progress  becomes  a  necessity.  Happily  the  step 
is  made  forward,  and  the  Church  has  a  new  gem  in  her  brilliant 
diadem. 

We  behold,  here,  the  full  illustration  of  the  words  of  the  Master  in 
Israel :  "  If  the  work  be  from  Grod,  you  cannot  destroy  it."  Cathe- 
rine's work  was  like  our  Divine  Lord  and  His  work :  "  a  sign  to  be 
contradicted."  She  had,  as  the  reader  will  perceive,  the  crosses,  and 
conflicts,  and  misconceptions  which  wait  upon  great  enterprises ;  but 
from  all  of  them  the  weak  woman  came  forth,  radiant  with  the  victo- 
ries the  Divine  Spirit  deigned  to  bestow.  The  simple  truth  is,  that 
her  work  was  a  plant  whose  growth  was  in,  and  of,  the  Church — which 
belonged  to  the  special  season  predetermined  by  Heaven — and  was, 
therefore,  only  one  of  the  series  of  the  "Father's  planting,"  which,  in 
mysterious  order,  grow  along  the  fields  of  ages,  and  mark  the  necessi- 
ties of  mankind,  as  well  as  the  vi  jilance  and  lovingnesa  of  Qod.  The 
same  Wisdom  which  gave  a  Panl  and  an  AStony  to  piety,  a  Benedict 
to  learning,  a  Bernard  to  discipline,  a  Dominic  to  assailed  orthodoxy, 
a  Francis  to  spiritual  life,  a  Peter  Nolasco  to  philanthropy,  a  Vincent 
de  Paul  to  ecclesiastical  reform  and  charity,  a  Nano  ITagle  and  a  De 
la  Salle  to  the  education  of  the  poor — the  same  gave  to  Ireland,  coming 
on  the  famine  time,  the  cholera  time,  and  the  days  of  awM  emigra- 
tion, and  Queen's  Colleges,  and  growth  of  materialism — Thb  Obdxb 
OF  MxBOT.  Refuge  was  to  he  needed  for  our  young  women,  and 
homes  for  our  orphans,  and  education  for  our  girls,  and  angels  of  God's 
love  for  our  decaying  and  dying  brothers  in  hospitals,  garrets,  and 
oabini ;  and  just  as  it  always  happened,  at  the  proper  time— nntber 


linic,  St 

g  orders, 

)rked  by 

it  object 

tiom  the 
rnd  her 

her,  and 

premises. 

lark  008- 

"  at  first 

srpation ; 

ae  within 

rit  has  in- 
ordinary 

lanotnary, 

f  the  step 

r  brilliant 

Master  in 
."    Cathe- 
sign  to  be 
rosses,  and 
(rises;  but 
I  the  vioto- 
ith  is,  that 
ch — which 
-and  was, 
'  which,  in 
he  necessi- 
Gk)d.    The 
a  Benedict 
orthodoxy, 
,  a  Vincent 
e  and  a  De 
ind,  coming 
rfol  emigra- 
Tmt  Oedbb 
romen,  and 
els  of  God's 
garrets,  and 
me — nether 


INTRODUCTION. 


n 


sooner  nor  later — Qod  spoke,  by  the  presence  of  the  Sibtsbs  of  Mibot: 
"  I  am  with  yon  all  days,  even  to  the  consnmmation  of  the  world." 
It  was  quite  true  for  the  Foundress,  when  she  congratnlated  Mother 
Elizabeth  of  Limerick :  "  Gratitude  to  God"  for  being  made  instru- 
ments of  good,  is  the  only  feeling  that  can  ever  have  place  in  a  ra- 
tional mind,  that  contemplates  the  results  of  labor  and  sacrifice  as  the 
fruits  of  God's  own  husbandry.  In  no  case  is  there  a  philosophical 
proportion  between  the  exertions  of  religious  founders  and  thnir  won« 
derfhl  success.  "  God  grant  yon  lively  gratitude  and  profound  hu- 
mility," wrote  the  Foundress;  "then,  indeed,  you  wiU  be  a  child  of 
benedicH'>n."  Such  is  the  mere  common  sense  of  those  who  see  the 
truth,  as  jix\j  ui^  clean  of  heart  can  behold  it 

Herein  lies  a  secret  which  unhappy  dissent  can  never  fathom,  and 
which  it  wearies  itself  in  vainly  describing.  Lord  Macaulay,  speaking 
of  the  Church,  naid  truly  enough,  that  never  was  any  "  human  institu- 
tion" so  worthy  of  being  studied,  because  no  human  institution  can  be 
compared  with  the  works  of  God.  Having,  however,  agreed  with  his 
readers,  that  the  Ghurch  was  a  "  human  institution,"  he  commenced 
to  initiate  them  in  the  arcana  of  her  indcstmctibilily.  He  made  her 
power  consist  principally  in  her  liberality;  and  declared  that  had  John 
Wesley  belonged  to  her  communion,  the  Church  would  have  tied  a 
rope  around  his  body,  and  sent  him  on  her  work  to  the  antipodes ;  she 
would  then  conclude  by  making  him  a  Saint.  The  English  schism,  he 
says,  made  Wesley  a  schismatic  to  itself,  because -it  did  not  know  how 
to  employ  his  enthusiasm.  Another  writer  places  the  strength  of  the 
Church  in  her  coercive  power  and  activity — declaring  that  she  would 
long  since  have  fallen  by  the  wear  and  tear  of  time,  and  the  intelli- 
gence of  "  the  nineteenth  century,"  only  for  the  fictitious  strength  im- 
parted to  her  by  bigotry.  Earl  Bussel  thinks  her  attractive  points  are 
those  ceremonies,  which ^^xalted  intellects  like  his,  call  "the  mum- 
meries of  superstition."  Bishop  Forbes,  and  many  of  the  Church  of 
England  people,  now  say  on  the  contrary:  "The  real  sacramental  ob- 
jective presence  of  our  Master  in  the  Sacrament — ^the  duty  of  adora- 
tion and  oblation — the  obligation  to  pray  for  the  departed — the  belief 
that  all  the  Saints  in  Paradise  unite  in  prayer  for  us  on  earth — the»e 
thinffi  are  our  euential  professions.^^  One  says,  "  confession"  is  the 
thing;  another,  the  "monastic  orders;"  a  third  thinks  "celibacy" 
the  secret;  and  a  fourth  places  the  spring  of  the  Church's  life  in  "in< 
fallibility."    Each  of  these  doctrines,  or  all  of  them,  accompanied  by 


1 
1 


22 


mTBODUOTION. 


certain  oeremonies,  will  then  be  adopted  by  taste  or  by  principle,  and 
the  Novattan  vainly  thinks  he  has  discovered  an  elixir  for  sfaotarian 
immortality. 

But  it  is  vain.  The  gardening  in  God's  Ghnrch  is  Gh)d's.  The  soil 
is  Hia ;  the  preparation  of  the  ground  and  the  growth  of  the  tree.  In 
alieu  land  the  plant  mast  fade  and  perish,  for  the  fertiliziDg  dew  falls 
only  on  the  spot  which  is  coi  !!ecrated  by  the  pbouisb.  The  people  ot 
whom  we  speak  are  like  northern  travellers,  who  find  themselves  in 
the  midst  of  tropical  f .~  wers,  v/hose  rich  hnes  and  miyestio  proportions 
fill  them  with  admiration.  "  Had  we  only  sach  flowers  at  home  1" 
they  exclaim,  and  they  forthwith  begin  the  work  of  transplanting. 
Bnt  the  labor  is  useless.  The  chill  bosom  of  the  north  was  never  in- 
tended to  supply  the  warm  current  which  is  necessary  for  their  life. 
Tho  frosts  nip,  and  the  winds  scatter  them.  They  grow  healthfnlly 
and  Inxuriantly  only  at  home.  The  Religions  Orders  grow  np  in  the.< 
Ghnrch  by  a  fixed  law — betimes  they  live  only  their  period  and  make> 
way  for  others — but  spontaneity  is  their  character.  The  same  general 
objects — God,  and  the  neighbor — bnt  as  "the  neighbor"  is  ever 
changing  his  needs,  the  Orders  ever  change  their  aspects,  or  new  ones 
spring  up  to  compliment  the  exertion  of  the  old.  Founders  are  the 
hand  of  God  dealing  with  His  Ghnrch  to  the  end  of  time ;  bnt  "  go 
down  to  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  will  show  thee,"  is,  it  might 
be  said,  their  only  rnle.  Never  was  any  thing  more  nnfounded  than 
the  supposition  that  "the  Ghnrch,"  meaning  the  execntive  of  Ohrist's 
Ghurch,  originates  Religions  Orders.  They  only  spring  up  in  her, 
a^d  she  "  dresses  and  keeps"  the  garden  God  has  given  to  her  care. 

And  it  may  be  allowed  for  a  moment  to  delay  the  reader  while  the 
remark  is  made,  that  nothing  occurs  more  frequently  than  the  singular 
division  which  Dissenters  make  between  the  Ghurch  and  hent^. 
Looking  at  her  operations  through  all  time  and  in  all  places,  they  sup- 
pose  a  kind  of  Directory  in  some  place  not  very  well  defined,  and  they 
attribute  to  this  Directory  the  universal  motion  in  which  they  behold 
the  members  of  the  Ghurch's  organism.  An  "Order"  is  instituted? 
The  Church  adopted  that  plan  to  effect  such  and  such  purposes.  Is  a 
mission  undertaken  ?  Tha  Church  has  sent  so  and  so  into  these  dis- 
tant  regions  to  eoonre  her  dominion.  Does  an  institute  of  peculiar 
rigor  and  great  lul>or  appear?  The  Ghurch  has  adopted  this  new  form 
of  appeal  to  secure  her  infiuenoe.  And  what  appears  very  wonderftil, 
is,  that  many  intelligent  people— people  of  travel— repeat  the  phrases 
of  visionary  hypotheses  to  which  use  has  given  the  privilege  of  passing 
without  examination. 


INTRODUCTION. 


23 


Probablj  manj  vould  be  astonishea  t^  hear  that  there  is  no  sooh 
Directory — no  board  or  government  inventing  religious  orders,  or 
organizing  severe  institutions  and  laborious  ccr.yregatlons.  The 
Church— if  by  the  Church  is  meant  the  Holy  See  and  the  Cardinals  at 
Borne — ^hear  about  such  tilings  for  the  first  time  when  they  are  in  life 
and  action.  The  Sovereign  Pontiff  gives  them  their  passports  to 
travel,  and  the  stamp  of  tlioir  origin ;  but  he  no  more  makes  them, 
invents  them,  or  plana  tlieir  objects,  than  the  head  of  the  human  body 
institutes  the  hand  or  regulates  its  powers.  They  are,  every  one  of 
them,  and  all  of  them  combined — the  Church  working — Rome  doing 
her  own  great  part,  and  imparting  to  the  rest  authority  and  real  life. 
They  spring  forth  from  0HAnmr,  the  fruits  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 
claiming  their  origin  from  the  Most  High.  Rome  judges,  but  does  not 
create  them.  Lilce  the  Okdek  of  Mkeot,  they  spring  up  unexpectedly, 
present  themselves  suddenly,  and  take  their  places  harmoniously,  with 
only  ONK  Inteixigenob  to  which  they  owe  their  origin.  Reflecting 
minds  will  see,  In  the  adaptation  of  means  to  end,  thus  observable  In 
the  combination  of  the  religious  orders  directed  to  one  purpose — 
achieving  identical  results,  and  converging  from  all  times  and  all 
places,  though  all  apparently  coming  from  the  ever-varying  impulses 
of  the  human  heart — a  harmony  of  man's  liberty  and  God's  eternal 
designs,  such  as  only  Omnipotence  could  accomplish.  In  fact,  all 
these  functions  which  persons  outside  the  Church  perceive  in  cease- 
less action  everywhere,  are,  all  of  )hem,  the  Church  working ;  and  to 
speak  of  the  Church  employing  them,  or  instituting  them,  is  to  say 
something  which  has  no  meaning;  or  to  say:  "Ob,  see  that  man's 
hands  and  feet  I  oerttdnly  his  head  made  thera ;  fur  they  act  In  perfect 
unison  with  it."  It  would  be  easy  to  explain  it  all  by  saying  that  God 
made  the  members,  and  gave  them  a  Hka.d  to  govern  tbem ;  but  that 
explanation  wonld  never  answer  for  people  who  must  see  things  ac- 
cording to  their  preconceived  views,  and  who.  If  they  have  said  n  man 
Is  his  own  father,  will  insist  that  every  other  fact  must  square  with 
their  supposition. 

How  beautiful  is  the  consistent  love  and  mercy  of  the  good  Qod 
displayed  towards  the  poor  1  All  the  blessings  Religion  promises  to 
sufferings  are  shadowed  forth  In  the  devotion  she  always  displays 
to  the  wretched.  The  outcasts  of  the  world's  pride — who  seem  an 
offence  to  Its  ei^joyments  and  Intellect — the  ignorant  and  the  pauper- 
ized— they  are  just  the  persons  for  whom  Christ  reserves  whatever  la 
most  precious  to  His  affection,  by  His  graces  and  their  good-will. 
Just  as  if  to  prove  His  PuBsnxfcB,  and  the  wonderful  "  virtue  which 


24 


INTRODUCTION. 


went  forth  from  Him,"  He  selects  the  chUdren  reared  in  laxnrj  and 
shaded  from  the  view  of  sorrow,  and  makes  them  servants  of  a  class 
fh)m  whom  even  poverty  would  often  fly  with  horror.  We  see  nature 
thus  transformed  or  exalted,  mortality  divested  of  its  clay,  the  lost  in 
life's  race  march  first  hy  Divine  love ;  and  we  lx»hold  the  perpotnation 
of  that  celestial  economy,  which  songht  the  fallen  woman  at  Jacob's 
well,  and  watched  the  funeral  coming  out  from  Nain,  to  give  the 
dead  son  to  the  mother,  "  who  was  a  widow."  We  learn  the  real 
meaning  of  "love  one  another  as  I  have  loved  yon,"  and  can  no  longer 
understand  the  principle  which  makes  imprisonment  in  a  workhouse 
the  condition  and  exponent  of  Ghi-istian  love. 

Let  it  be  again  repeated,  that  religious  orders  grow  out  of  the  roots 
of  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  always  alive  in  the  Church.  They  may 
take  different  forms,  because  the  necessities  of  the  world  will  always 
vary  with  the  condition  of  the  human  family,  and  the  objects  to  be 
attained  by  charity  will  always  vary  with  them.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, ii  invariable,  and  that  is,  that  the  stamp  of  ^heir  origin  is  ever, 
not  only  on  the  works  done,  but,  by  a  blessed  providence,  on  those 
who  do  them. 

Not  only  in  the  oasj  of  Catherine,  but  in  that  of  nearly  all  her 
associates  and  followers,  the  individuals  and  their  occupations  were 
the  least  likely  in  the  world  to  be  combined.  Education,  tastes,  habits, 
pr^udices,  and  one  would  say,  even  capacity,  were  opposed  to  the 
selection  of  a  state  in  life  like  that  which  the  Sister  of  Mercy  seeks  so 
ardently.  The  poverty  in  which  she  lives  con  be  known  only  to  those 
who  will  not  reveal  it,  and  the  labor  she  performs  is  a  marvel  to  those 
who  know  her  best,  and  even  to  herself.  The  brief  repose— the 
lengthened  devotions — the  spare  diet,  and  even  the  hot  school  for 
hours  of  a  day,  are  not  so  much  in  themselves;  but  the  sickness,  dis- 
tress, filth,  stupidity,  insffi^ibility,  and  even  obduracy,  to  which  they 
become  daily  handmaids,  are  things  with  which  it  requires  an  effort 
of  the  mind  to  connect  the  joyous,  radiant  young  creature  who  is  tbo 
sunshine  of  home  and  the  pride  of  her  parents.  And  when  yon  think 
of  the  way  in  which  she  has  been  brought  up— the  tender  care  of 
home— tlie  hardly  less  anxious  attention  of  the  boarding-school — the 
worship  jouth,  beauty,  and  good  means  obtain,  if  they  do  not  in- 
spire—the very  vanity  inseparable  from  adulation,  and  oven  the  oon- 
eoiousness  of  right  and  claim  to  these  things  according  to  the  world's 
node — they  all  remove  the  individual  so  far  from  the  scones  and  sor- 
rows to  which  we  have  referred,  that  you  find  such  persons  among 
them,  08  you  find  the  sick  made  sudden^  whole,  or  the  sinAil  sud- 


INTBODUOTIOK. 


u 


I 


niryand 
)f  a  class 
io  nature 
tie  lost  ia 
potniitioii 
it  Jacob's 

pve  the 

the  real 
no  longer 
workhouse 

'  the  roots 
They  may 
rill  always 
ijeots  to  be 
ling,  liow- 
gln  is  ever, 
,i  on  those 

»rly  all  her 
ations  were 
ates,  habits, 
Dsed  to  the 
roy  seeks  so 
nly  to  those 
•vel  to  those 
repose— the 
;  Bohool  for 
ickness,  dis- 
whioh  they 
•es  aa  effort 
e  who  is  the 
in  yoa  think 
ider  care  of 
school— the 
J  do  not  in- 
ven  the  oon- 
the  world's 
ones  and  sor- 
irsons  among 
e  sinftal  sud- 


denly converted.  It  b  not  natare.  It  cannot  be  nature.  And  when 
to  all  this  you  add,  perhaps  grace's  greatest  triumph — that  while  the 
child  of  God  works  away,  no  one  sees  the  sacrifice — there  is  no  word 
of  wonder  at  her  chivalry,  or  praise  of  her  heroism,  »r  pity  for  hnr 
suffering;  but  all  her  toilsome  life  she  "plods  her  weary  way,"  going 
where  she  is  sent,  not  knowing  what  she  is  to  do  next — praying, 
reading,  teaching,  and  reposing,  by  no  taste  or  will  of  her  own,  but 
nil  by  unquestioning  obedience — you  find  no  difSculty  in  pronouncing 
the  old  judgment :  "The  finger  of  God  is  here." 

It  is  easy,  oompar^ktively,  to  go  forth  amid  such  scenes  for  a  day  or 
two  in  the  mouth  or  week ;  though  for  ten  or  twenty  years  you  will 
find  few  to  do  so.  Tou  are  free  to  go  or  to  stay — and  that  does 
something  fur  pride  and  selfishness.  Tou  have  your  own  home  on 
your  return  in  the  evening,  and  the  contrast  makes  domestic  enjoy- 
ment even  more  happy.  Tou  have  your  friends  to  meet  and  your 
lamentations  to  indulge  in,  and  the  long,  story  of  your  experience  to 
narrate — ^and  all  these  do  a  great  deal  for  p<  or  humanity.  But  a  far 
different  thing  is  the  "Sister's"  life.  The  long  day's  wearing  toil — the 
sealed  silence  on  her  relum — the  never-ceasing  duty  calling  her  still  to 
some  engagement— and  then  the  lonely  cell  and  hor  own  soul.  These 
are  the  things  that  make  the  life  of  a  religious  impossible  to  selfish- 
ness, ivnd  created  and  sustained  only  by  grace. 

The  writer  has  seen  some  instances  of  the  heroism  of  which  he 
speaks,  and  which  comes  only  from  the  Former  and  Fashioner  of 
hearts  and  resolutions.  Ho  has  seen  them  in  the  cholera  hospitals, 
where  his  own  duties  called  him  the  days  and  nights  of  1840,  and  he  has 
met  them  at  the  fever-sheds  in  '46,  '47,  and  '48.  It  was  not  tbe  exer- 
tion, though  such  ex^ion  wore  out  many  a  strong  energy;  nor  the 
patience  and  devotion,  for  both  one  and  the  other  seem  to  be  the  nor- 
mal growth  of  gentle  souls;  but  it  was  the  changeless,  sleepless,  oon- 
querless  activity,  the  mirooulons  kind  of  omnipresence  of  these 
young,  fair  daughters  of  the  faith,  during  the  whole  time,  day  and 
night.  Gome  when  you  would  and  go  where  yon  pleased,  you  found 
them  there  still.  And  yon  saw,  or  imagined  yon  saw,  the  same  per ' 
son  everywhere ;  the  same  sweet,  contented,  happy  look  and  bearing 
that  spoke  of  b&.ven  within  and  around  them.  How  they  could 
address  themselves  so  continuously  to  the  wretched,  surprised  one. 

The  poor  sinner  was  softened  when  they  spoke  of  God,  and  suffer- 
ing relaxed  half  its  grasp  as  the  Sister  of  Mercy  held  the  cross  before 
the  glazing  eyes  of  anguish.  It  need  not  be  observed  that  many 
Protestants  were  converted  by  the  grace  of  their  very  looks,  for  they 

a 


;  I 


■  I 


•;?. 


■ 


3  i 


m 


F 


mm 


26 


INTBODUCTIOK. 


never  spoke  of  controversy.    One  case  was  amnsing  enough.    It  oc- 
curred during  the  visitation  of  1849 : 

"  Well "  BMd  a  hospital  officer  to  an  English  seaman,  who  appeared 
to  be  rapidly  sinking,  "well,  friend,  what  minister  wiU  you  have?" 
"Minister,  eh t» 
"Yes,  what  minister?" 
"  Well,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.    I  say  l" 
"Well?" 

" Do  you  see  that  tall  black  'un  there?" 
•'  Yes,  that  is  Sister  Mary— one  of  tiio  nuns." 

"  Oh,  well,  then,  I  wiU  have  her  minister.     She  works hard  I 

know,  and  I  h'ard  she  doesn't  get  no  pay." 

The  pool  fellow  had  afterwards  better  motives  for  entering  thi 
Ohuroh,  and  "  the  tall  black  'un"  closed  his  eyes. 

Of  a  truth,  only  God's  power  in   God's  Church   reveak  snob 
resources  in  the  heart  of  woman. 

Nothing  demonstrates  the  rapidity  with  which  Christian  morality 
shares,  in  Protestant  communions,  the  fate  of  Christian  dogma, 
more  than  the  relations  which  subsist  between  property  and  pauper- 
ism. It  was  thought  by  the  eariy  reformers  that  personal  judgment 
which  regulated  the  nature  and  extent  of  belief,  would  never  usurp 
the  direction  and  specification  of  moral  principles.  Habit  had  fixed 
them,  and  the  public  conscience  appeared  their  guardian.  But  only  a 
brief  period  was  necessary  to  show  that  the  indepenience  which 
defied  aU  teaching  in  the  matter  of  fdth,  renounced  all  guidance  in 
the  matter  of  practice,  and  that  no  higher  sanction  of  moral  law  any 
longer  existed  than  public  taste  and  private  safety.  Men  did  precisely 
what  they  pleased,  and  restrained  their  impulses  only  in  the  presence 
of  shame  or  danger. 

And  the  results  ot  the  principle,  or  want  of  principle,  here  indi- 
cated, were  i. .  nd  in  the  altered  condition  and  position  of  the  poor. 
The  kind  fellowship  that  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  that  sunny  joy 
which  in  the  presence  of  sympathy  beamed  in  the  face  of  patient 
want,  were  found  no  longer.  The  rich  looked  at  the  poor  askant,  and 
the  poor  bent  their  brows  as  wealth  passed  by,  and  made  them  feel 
the  contempt  of  pride  and  high  station.  The  dosses  separated  one 
from  another  like  castes,  and  began  to  reckon  each  other  as  natural 
enemies,  and  the  seeds  of  ever-growing  repulsion  were  widely  sown. 
It  is  not  to  be  siud,  of  course,  that  this  was  universally  the  case,  but 
only  generally,  and  quite  sufficiently  to  render  such  a  state  of  thingi  • 
characteristic  of  our  time. 


i^mm 


iiiim""iiii-ii"ii»aiiiiiiiaiiiii 


gh.    It  oc- 

o  appeared 
have?" 


hardl 

intering  tbi 

eveak  snob 

an  moralitj 
bian  dogma, 
and  pcuper- 
al  judgment 
never  nsnrp 
tit  bad  fixed 
But  only  a 
lence  vbiob 
.  guidance  in 
aral  law  any 
did  precisely 
the  preaenoe 

e,  here  indl- 
of  tbe  poor. 
lat  Bnnnyjoy 
ce  of  patient 
ir  askant,  and 
de  them  feel 
leparated  one 
er  as  natural 
widely  sown, 
tbe  case,  but 
te  of  tbings  • 


IKTBODUCTION. 


27 


Workbonses  are  among  tbe  ideas  whiob  sprang  ont  of  the  new  con- 
dition of  society ;  and  they  sprang  ont  of  a  double  feeling,  or  a  treble 
feeling  it  may  bo.  They  were  a  safety  to  governments ;  tlu'y  rfmoved 
want  from  the  presence  of  competence ;  and  tliey  supplied  the  place  of 
voluntary  alms,  which  were  no  longer  found  available. 

It  is  no  part  of  tbe  purpose  of  this  Introduction  to  make  national 
contrasts,  or  to  laud  foreign  philanthropy;  yet  it  is  worth  remarking 
that  tiie  workhonse  system  is  entirely  a  Protestant  idea.  Catholic 
countries  may  be  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  but  it  is  certain  that  sorrow 
and  want  find  sympathy  and  sufficient  osustance  iit  brotherly  love,  and 
that  perpetual  imprisonmenc  and  the  rnpture  of  all  feeling  are  not  a 
condition  necei'sary  to  avoid  starvation.  Why  slionld  it  be  so?  Po 
liticd  or  social  economy  7  Assuredly,  Christianity  must  be  wiser  than 
modem  socialism,  which  finds  tbe  principles  of  religion  inconvenient 
or  transforms  them  by  misinterpretation. 

What  is  tills  thing  which  Christianity  calls  love?  Modern  philoso- 
phy has,  in  many  thmgs,  found  the  Scriptures  behind  modern  progreus, 
but  fearfyiy  in  advance  of  it  in  the  notion  of  the  relations  of  man- 
kind. And  modem  philosophy  accordu.gly  takes  as  much  Christianity 
OS  comes  up  to  tbe  mark  of  modem  wisdom,  leaving  the  rest  as  a 
monnment  of  what  is  called  ancient  civilization,  now  extinct.  Lovb 
is  one  of  the  objects  of  Chriatian  precept  which  serves  to  enlighten 
the  dull  history  of  the  middle  ages,  and  which  is  dignified  with  tho 
white  garment  of  Herod  in  these  days  of  industry  and  political  science. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  i.ovs  of  the  Gospel — illustrated  by 
the  life  that  animates  the  Gospel— is  found  only  where  the  Church  has 
sway.  If  we  never  saw  tho  sacrifice  of  lovb,  "greater  than  which  no 
man  bath ;"  and  never  heard  the  precept  of  love — "  love  one  another 
as  I  have  loved  you ;"  or  never  bad  known  the  interpretation  of  i,ovk, 
as  the  Acts  of  tbe  Apostles,  the  Epistles  of  Sts.  James  and  John,  have 
preserved  it  for  our  edification,  we  certainly  could  judge  without 
serious  difficulty  that  lovb  did  not  mean  indifference,  hostility,  con- 
tempt, shutting  out  suffering  from  our  eyes  that  iU  agonies  may  not 
disturb  us,  and  incarcerating  poverty  perpetually  that  we  may  not  be 
offended  by  its  rags.  No ;  love  has  feeling,  action,  anxiety,  watchAil- 
ness,  on  ardent  curiosity  to  discern  necessity,  and  an  ardent  impulse 
to  relieve  pain.  It  does  not  confine  itself  to  feeding  and  clothing  its 
object,  and  locking  it  up  within  stone  walls,  to  curse  its  fate  and  brood 
over  human  ii\)ustice ;  but  it  seeks,  cores,  consoles,  and  cheers  distress, 
more  by  tho  nnpurcbasable  sympathy  of  a  compassionate  heart  than 
by  measureless  oontribntions  of  money,  which  are  han^V  valued  by 


■■ 


INTBODUCTION. 


those  •w]\c  give  or  receive.  The  apostle  gave  his  glom  upon  the  view 
of  our  Lord  Je^iia  Christ  when  he  said :  "  We  ought  to  die  for  tlie 
brethren." 

The  Church  at  all  times  felt  and  demonstrated  her  feeling,  that  the 
poor  were  emphatically  Jesas  Christ:  "As  long  as  you  have  not  ('.one 
BO  to  one  of  these  little  ones,  you  have  not  done  it  to  mel'  Thus  "all 
things  were  in  common"  in  the  early  days  of  her  history,  when  the 
echo  of  Christ's  injunctions  were  still  in  the  ear  of  the  disciples.  And 
far  Zowa  in  the  ages,  until  we  feel  the  presence  of  the  laws  in  our 
traditions  and  habits,  the  episcopal  treasury  was  the  excess  above  the 
necessities  of  affluence,  to  which  all  the  poor  had  an  irresistible  right. 
"We  understand  at  once  how  it  was  that  temporal  necessities  became 
the  signal  for  Christian  devotion,  and  even  the  manacle  of  the  slave 
was  freely  shared  or  assumed  when  Christian  lots  contemplated  the 
slavery  from  which  love  divine  had  rescued  it. 

The  listers  of  Mercy,  sitting  by  the  beds  of  the  plague-stricken,  their 
light  forms  flitting  up  and  down  the  hospitals  dnring  the  cholera-time 
— mingling  with  the  dying  on  the  battle-fields  of  the  East,  or  hanging 
over  beds  of  pain  and  disease  at  Scutari  and  Balaklava — are  sometimes 
miracles  in  the  eyes  of  earnest  Protestants,  and  not  unfreqnently  an 
illustration  of  the  "  wonderful  power  the  Church  of  Rome  has  over  its 
votaries."  To  one  who  views  the  picture  in  the  light  of  the  "  Oruoi- 
fled,"  there  is  nothing  seen  but  snccessorsliip  to  those  who  gloried  in 
the  Cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus,  and  who  heard  His  voice  calling  them  to 
the  holy  mountain:  "Go,  sell  what  ye  have— give  it  to  the  poor,  Fol- 
low Me,  and  yon  will  have  treasure  in  heaven." 

The  writer  remembers  the  cholera  of  1882,  and  had  the  happiness 
of  spending  some  nights  in  a  cholera  hospital.  It  was  in  early  sum- 
mer-time, and  life  and  death  came  in  awful  contrast  when  countless 
coffins  moved  along  the  roads  and  across  the  country,  amid  the  fresh 
verdure  and  blooming  flowers  of  June.  There  r.  os  a  complete  paraly- 
sis of  hope;  and  many  sank  down  beside  the  plague-stricken,  whose 
fears  poisonetl  the  current  of  life,  rather  tlian  the  disease  which  smote 
their  neighbors  so  suddenly  and  fearfully. 

At  that  time  a  young  lady  of  nineteen  assumed  the  direction  of  the 
nnrses  in  a  Southern  hospital.  Educated,  attractive,  noble  in  her  bear- 
ing, dignified  in  her  address  and  manners— it  was  a  charming  study  to 
watch  her  as  she  passed  iVom  bed  to  bed,  from  ward  to  ward — not 
with  the  cloud  of  saddening  sorrow,  but  with  the  smile  of  heaven- 
hope  in  her  face.  For  every  one  she  had  a  kind  word,  and  her  look 
was  even  more  eloquent  in  consoling  the  wretched  th«n  her  language. 


'■■^wm 


INTRODUCTION. 


a» 


the  view 
,e  for  the 

;,  that  the 
>  not  ('.one 
Thus  "all 

when  the 
pies.  And 
iws  in  onr 

ahove  the 
tible  right, 
es  became 
r  the  slave 
iplated  the 

ioken,  their 
iiolera-time 
or  hanging 
I  sometimes 
equently  an 
lias  over  ita 
the  "Ornol- 
D  gloried  in 
ing  them  to 
I  poor,  FoL- 

e  happiness 
I  early  snm- 
jn  countless 
lid  the  fresh 
)lete  paraly- 
icken,  whose 
which  smote 

action  of  the 
I  in  her  bear- 
ling  study  to 
to  ward — not 
e  of  heaven- 
md  her  look 
lior  laoguage. 


Even  in  their  direst  extremity,  the  sufferers  felt  the  balm  of  new  con- 
solation when  that  joung  girl  stood  by  their  side.  To  some  of  the 
medical  men  she  was  a  plienomenon — particularly  to  Protestants — 
who  more  than  once  exclaimed  to  the  writer:  "  What  a  singular  taste 
that  young  lady  must  have!"  They  conld  hardly  understand  what  is 
meant  by  the  constraining  love  that  wastes  itself  and  rejoices  while  it 
pines — that  transformed  the  heart  of  St  Franeis  Xavier  into  a  paradise, 
and  made  thecholer&  hospital  a  heaven  for  the  child  of  sacrifice.  The 
girl  of  nineteen  of  that  day  is  now  a  Sister  of  Mercy ;  and  has,  in  many 
a  place  and  many  a  heart,  reproduced,  by  GUkI's  goodness  to  her,  the 
idenl  which  then  filled  her  young  soul.  No  cnrions  eye  shall  discover 
the  daughter  of  benediction,  whose  greatest  grace  is  the  mantle  of  hn 
mility,  with  which,  in  all  her  days,  she  has  been  able  to  conceal  the 
gifts  of  Grod. 

The  purposes  the  Almighty  has  to  servo,  require  virtues  equal  to 
their  holinens  and  their  magnitude.  And  when  Catherine  McAuley 
was  chosen  to  be  the  medium  of  salvatiim— of  applying  the  divine 
mercy  to  so  many  in  religion  and  out  of  it— we  find  her  graces  eqnal 
to  her  mission.  Was  there  ever  a  creature  more  unselfish — who  lived 
more  entirely  by  faith,  hope,  and  love  T  And  do  we  not  see  in  the 
special  nature  of  the  lights  God  vouchsafed  to  her,  that  wonderful  il> 
lumination  of  soul  which  reflects  the  near  Saviour,  by  communion  and 
indwelling? 

It  is  happy  for  us  who  pursue  her  through  the  brief  and  fnll  career 
Ood  permitted  unto  her,  that  even  so  much  rumaips  to  illustrate  her 
exalted  views  of  spiritual  life  and  holy  charity.  From  the  letters 
which  have  been  preserved,  we  may  easily  see  what  a  treasure  the 
Ohuroh  in  general  should  possess,  if  a  colleotion  of  her  writings  conld 
be  obtained.  Tbe  communications  to  Kingstown,  Oariow,  Limerick, 
&o., — pointing  out  the  connection  human  efforts  have  with  the  work 
of  God,  and  the  way  to  employ  trials,  contradictions,  and  sufferings, 
in  order  to  give  them  their  place  in  the  economy  of  God's  govern- 
ment,— are  beautiful  expositions  of  the  thoughts  of  an  interior  soul, 
and  indicate  a  virtue  quite  kindred  to  that  of  the  great  Saints  of  the 
Church.  To  such  a  one  nothing  comes  amiss.  Every  success  was  the 
good  Father's  mercy  to  the  poor  and  to  the  Sisters ;  and  every  bitter 
trial  was  sent  only  to  purify  our  thoughts  and  stimulate  our  exertions, 
while,  if  received  with  humility,  it  was  the  sure  forerunner  of  soma 
singular  blessing.  Such  an  interior  is,  of  course,  the  effect  of  the 
grace  of  Heaven,  and  the  true  reflection  of  the  perfect  will  of  God.  It 
is  the  victory  which  ocnquers  the  world,  which  is  {^ven  into  the  hands 


80 


INTBODUCliON. 


of  Christ's  servants ;  and  a  new  proof  of  His  dear  love  for  the  poor 
and  forlorn,  in  whose  canse  He  works  such  wonders. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Catherine  had  been  reared  among  Pro- 
testants,  and  that  some  men.bers  of  her  own  family  bad  apastatized 
from  tlie  Church.  Hence  her  early  days  were  only  partially  enlight- 
ened, and  were  obo  deprived  of  the  aids  to  knowledge  and  sanctity 
which  thuQsands  of  Catholics  possess  in  such  abnodance.  Thus  she 
continued  nearly  to  the  hour  that  beheld  her  in  possession  of  wealth, 
and  mo^-od  by  that  insatiable  spirit  for  helping  want  and  ignorance, 
that  was  the  writing  of  God  in  the  pages  of  her  great  destiny.  Then, 
what  men  would  call  an  accident,  made  her  a  novice  at  George's  Hill ; 
and  eighteen  months  were  given  to  religious  training.  Such  was  her 
whole  schooling,  one  might  say,  in  the  science  she  was  to  teach  as  a 
mistress — in  the  difficult  up-hill  path  of  perfection,  where  she  was  to 
become  a  guide.  And  so  it  was  with  regard  to  tlie  government  of 
otiier^.  She  hud  known  little  or  no  theory  of  it ;  yet  hundreds  of 
hearts  were  to  be  swayed  by  her,  and  hundreds  of  dispositions  to  be 
ruled,  and  the  energies  of  hundreds  directed,  while  every  variety  of 
difficulty  and  trial  was  to  be  encountered  in  all  kinds  of  chftraoter,  and 
arising  from  every  kind  of  position.  Her  enlightenment  and  her  pru- 
dence— her  never-wavering  faitJi,  hope,  and  humility — led  her  steadily 
to  the  successful  results  we  ei^oy.  Ker  letters  will  be  read  with  in- 
terest, and  will  attest  these  observations  to  be  facts.  She  had  no 
"vain  fear  or  superfluous  solicitude;"  and  as  she  did  all  f  <"  God,  who 
governs  all,  she  accepted  disappointment  with  the  same  readiness  as 
success — perhaps  indeed  with  more  pleasure,  because  of  the  hnmilia- 
tion  that  came  with  it. 

Speaking  of  St.  Teresa,  Benedict  XIV.  quotes  from  the  process  of 
her  canonization :  ."  The  Auditors  of  the  Rota,  in  their  report  on  thti 
virtues  of  this  saint,  have  proved  the  heroism  of  her  life  from  the  fact 
that  she  placed  her  hope  and  love  in  God  Himself  as  the  end,  but  in 
all  created  goods  only  as  the  means  necessary  or  conducive  towards 
obtaining  eternal  good;  that  she  hoped  in  God  with  dl  her  heart, 
with  full  security  and  without  any  doubt  or  hesitation,  but  with  a  firm, 
noss  which  excluded  all  vain  fear  and  superfluous  solicitude ;  that  she 
flew  to  Him  alone  in  every  necessity  and  danger,  by  humble  prayers 
and  persevering  supplications,  with  oil  the  trustfulness  of  her  soul,  and 
that  in  Him  and  for  film,  she  hoped  for  and  achieved  most  difficult 
things,  namely,  the  reform  of  her  order,  although  she  was  a  woman, 
poor,  in  bad  health,  and  destitute  of  all  human  aid,  although  she  waa 
impeded  by  powerful  obstacles,  and  dangers  were  hanging  over  her." 


^mimmssm^S 


INTBODUCTION. 


81 


■the  poor 

long  Pro- 
postatized 
y  enli^ht- 
il  sanctity 
ThoB  she 
of  wealth, 
ignorance, 
ly.    Then, 
rge'8  Hill; 
h  was  hor 
teach  as  a 
she  was  to 
>rnment  of 
imdreds  of 
ions  to  be 
r  variety  of 
racter,  and 
id  her  pru- 
ner  steadily 
ad  with  in- 
he  had  no 
-  God,  who 
readinesB  as 
he  bninilia- 

I  process  of 
)port  on  the 
•om  the  fact 
end,  but  in 
ive  towards 
L  her  heart, 
with  a  firm. 
le;  that  she 
nble  prayers 
ler  ponl,  and 
lost  difiicnlt 
ia  a  woman, 
ugh  she  was 
t  over  her." 


Every  word  here  spokea  will  be  for.nd  jostified  if  we  apply  the  pas* 
sage  to  the  subject  of  these  pages.  And  what  renders  such  coinci> 
deuce  of  virtno  the  more  singular  is,  that  the  facts  which  tlie  Sacred 
Oongregation  of  the  Bota  describes  as  an  evidence  of  the  heroic  virtue 
of  St  Teresa,  come  out  in  those  of  Mother  MoAnley's  life  with  a  facility 
which  makes  the  language  of  the  Bota  only  like  a  deduction  from  the 
pages  now  given  to  the  public. 

Benedict  XIV.  sayn  agun,  quoting  from  the  prooest-  of  canoniza- 
tion: "The  entrance  of  St.  Aloysius  Oonzaga  into  the  Society  of  Jesns 
was  rightly  accounted  among  his  heroic  acts  of  hope  by  the  Anditors 
of  the  Bota;  for  he,  cheerfully  resigning  tb^  marquisate  of  Castiglione, 
which  was  afterwards  made  a  principality,  and  putting  aside  the 
pleasures  and  delights  of  this  world,  embraced  the  aforesaid  insti- 
tute." 

Oertainly,  we  may  condudr  as  much  of  Oatherine  MoAnley's  sur~ 
render  of  the  world.  She  was  extremely  well  fitted  by  nature  to  take 
what  is  called  "  a  high  place  in  society ;"  and  her  talents  had  had  an 
education  suflScient  to  give  them  a  striking  development.  In  fortnnA 
and  prospectr,  she  was  far  in  advance  of  the  Catholics  of  her  position 
in  our  day.  They  were  then  fewer,  more  prominent,  and  singular 
enough,  far  more  courted  than  at  present.  The  truth  is,  that  both 
high  and  middle  class  Catholics,  towards  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century  and  in  the  boginning  of  the  nineteenth,  were  among  the  ob- 
jects of  Protestant  patronage,  and  could  not  be  esteemed  the  objects 
of  Protestant  jealousy.  Tho  land  belonged  to  a  section  of  its  people, 
and  they  were  satisfied  to  be  liberal  and  even  kind,  so  long  as  their 
ascendancy  was  unquestioned,  When,  however,  the  advances  of  true 
political  principles  began  to  threaten  their  supremacy,  they  gathered 
more  closely  together ;  and  when  law,  prosperity,  and  education  began 
to  ruse  the  old  race  to  the  same  platform  with  themselves,  the  "  odi 
pro&nnm  valgus"*  principle  began  to  prevail,  and  the  "arceo,"of 
course,  succeeded. 

Catherine  McAuley,  then,  had  all  the  temptations  which  yonth, 
beauty,  fortune,  and  ra'-e  ability  encountered,  particularly  when 
whirled  along  by  a  handsome  carriage  and  four.  How  humbled  and 
edified  wo  feel  when  we  tarn  to  the  poor  Nun  in  her  ill-fhrnished  cell, 
with  her  broken  wrist,  and  lonely  nights  all  unattended ;  and  how 
pliunly  we  see  the  ennobling  grace  of  Qod  in  the  only  complaint  which 

*  "  I  bBt«  that  ignorant  rabble,  and  oommand  them  to  stand  off."— ^r.  Oar, 
lib.  8,  od.  1. 


«i 


as 


INTRODUCTION'. 


escaped  her  when  the  death-congh  seized  her,  and  made  her  nights  so 
gloomj — "I  so  disturb  the  poor  Sisters!" 

The  separation  from  the  world,  however,  was  not  the  only  triamph 
vhich  God  gave  Catherine  McAulej  over  flesh  and  blood,  for  she  was 
wddentlj  so  identified  with  God  that,  like  the  blessed  Teresa,  "  she  so 
loved  Ood  for  Himself  alone,  that  she  bnrued  with  desire  for  the  glory 
of  God  Almighty,  and  labored  in  the  highest  degree  for  its  increase,  as 
well  in  the  reform  and  propagation  of  her  order,  as  in  the  admirable 
doctrines  she  left  us  in  her  writings,  and  in  all  her  actions  and  heroic 
virtues." 

Towards  the  end  of  this  ivlnme,  an  obituary  of  the  Foundress,  by 
tbe  writer,  then  connected  with  education  in  Nova  Scotia,  informs  the 
reader  of  an  acquaintance  with  Catherine  McAuley,  dating  nearly 
thirty  years  ago.  If  ever  there  was  a  time  when  the  originator  of  a 
great  institute  is  particularly  attached  to  the  work,  it  is  when  first 
obstacles  have  been  overcome,  and  diffusive  life  shows  the  wide  reign 
and  range  the  system  is  about  to  enjoy.  There  before  the  eyes  is  the 
BQCcess — and  just  in  its  vigor  too — when  hope  can  picture  nothing  too 
great  to  be  achieved,  and  experience  inspires  a  confidence  before,  per- 
haps, not  particularly  reliant.  Afterwards,  when  the  work  looks 
finished,  and  the  machinery  b  moved  by  other  hands,  and  other  minds 
have  made  their  own  of  its  success,  interest  and  effort  may  rule  in 
imperfect  souls,  but  every  thing  natural  and  supernatural  binds  one  to 
the  old  arena  at  such  a  period  as  that  to  which  we  refer.  It  was  just  at 
BQch  a  time  the  writer  encountered  Mother  HcAuloy,  and  just  at  such 
•  time  she  wished  to  join  him  in  a  mission  of  charity  to  Nova  Scotia. 

Reverend  Mother  was  a  person  never  to  be  forgotten.  Her  face, 
look,  bearing,  and  conversation  are  jt.t  as  fresh  to-day,  after  so  many 
years,  as  they  were  the  evening  of  the  day  alluded  to  in  the  obituary 

The  fiill,  steady,  blue  eyes,  so  (aiH  of  light,  and  yet  not  dazrJing— 

"  Her  spirit  sita  aloof  and  high, 
But  glances  from  lier  tender  eye, 
In  sweetness  droopingly  ;— 

The  tresh,  autumnal  bloom  of  the  cheek,  pure  and  transparent  fi-om 
the  paradise  of  heavenly  thoughts  in  which  she  lived ;  the  smile,  so 
recollected,  yet  so  genial,  that  at  once  won  heart  and  confidence ;  and 
the  bearing  and  conversation,  in  which  an  ei^y  dignity  and  wonderful 
fiuiility  of  expression  combined  to  make  her  conversation  something 
which  her  auditor  had'  not  known  before,  and  has  not  since  en- 
oonntered. 


INTRODUCTION'. 


eher  nights  so 

8  onl;»  trinmpb 
jd,  for  she  was 
Teresa,  "she  so 
•e  for  the  glory 
its  increase,  as 
I  the  admirable 
ions  and  heroic 

J  Foundress,  by 
tia,  informs  the 
,  dating  nearly 

originator  of  a 
it  is  when  first 
)  the  wide  reign 
)  the  eyes  is  the 
;ure  nothing  too 
mce  before,  per- 
the  work  looks 
and  oUier  minds 
Tort  may  rale  in 
iiral  binds  one  to 
•,    It  was  just  at 
and  jast  at  snch 
'  to  Nora  Scotia, 
itten.    Her  face, 
y,  after  so  many 

in  the  obituary 
not  dazriing— 


ransparent  firom 
id ;  the  smile,  so 
confidence;  and 
ty  and  wonderful 
jation  something 
IS  not  sinoe  en- 


"But,  Reverend  Mother,  how  oonid  yon  think  of  leaving  yonr  great 
Institute,  and  burying  yourself  in  a  poor  province  ?" 

"  We  have  plenty  of  Sisters  more  than  able  to  supply  my  place,"  she 
replied,  "  and  I  may  be  tit  for  the  rough  work  to  be  encountered  in  a 
new  region.  Try  me.  When  I  was  young  I  often  heard,  'Go  to 
Nova  Scotia,'  said  to  some  one  who  was  importunate,  or  incredulous, 
or  something  ebe.  Perhaps  I  may  be  fortunate  enough  to  'go  to 
Nova  Scotia.' " 

"  Time  mast  be  taken,  Reverend  Mother.  The  soil  must  be  pre- 
pared, or  no  growth  can  be  expected.  Were  you  to  go  now,  yourself 
and  the  Sisters  who  might  accompany  you,  would,  in  all  likelihood,  be 
the  first  and  last  Nuns  in  Halifax.  Vocations  must  come  from  an  ad- 
vanced state  of  religion  and  education." 

It  would  be  difiioult  to  picture  her  smile  of  incredulity  and  her 
gentle  movement  of  the  head  as  she  replied : 

"Ah,  Father,  yon  mistake.  Tou  have  often  seen  a  recruiting  part} 
come  into  a  town  or  city.  No^ne  appeared  anxious  to  become  a 
soldier.  The  men  who  enlisted  were  not  seen;  or  if  seen,  no  one,  not 
even  themselves,  dreamed  of  their  patting  on  the  red  coat.  But  the 
drum,  and  fife,  and  cockade,  aroused  new  thoughts,  new  hopes,  and 
new  projects,  and  the  recruiting  party  is  soon  followed  by  a  new  sup- 
ply for  the  ranks.    Make  the  experiment  1" 

How  the  writer  had  the  courage  to  refuse,  it  is  very  hard  indeed  to 
explain.  Of  course,  it  would  be  necessary  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the 
Archbishop ;  but  at  any  rate,  the  writer  had  the  weakness  to  fear  the 
experiment,  and  he  lost  such  a  light  and  guide  of  life  as  is  twice 
offered  to  very  fo^T  clergymen.  The  whole  scene  and  circumstance 
would  be  of  little  importance  unless  in  the  life  of  a  holy  personage, 
whom  we  may  hope  at  some  time  to  see  placed  upon  our  altars.  In 
tuis  regard,  a  word  or  even  a  look,  may  well  be  deemed  a  treasure  i 
and  the  conversation  above  set  down  is  therefore  repeated  almost 
word  for  word,  as  far  as  memory  permits  it — and  memory  in  this  case 
fs  sot  likely  to  fail. 

Withont  paying  any  compliment  which  the  relations  of  this  volume 
with  the  Order  would  render  importune,  it  may  >~e  sud  that  the  his- 
tory of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  has  been  like  a  continuation  of  the  life  of 
the  Foundress,  multiplied.  We  see  her  everywhere  and  in  every 
thing — the  image  of  her  work  in  all  the  image  and  feeling  of  the 
Sisterhood.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  following  life  will  do 
much  to  deepen  the  lines  of  resemblance  between  (he  various  Convents 
of  the  Order,  by  impr^sin^  the  rising  generation  of  yonug  I^igious 

2* 


) 


-i 


i 


■..  .a^.^'/T^rrw^^^**'  '• 


M 


UTTRODUCTION. 


with  the  exact  views  and  special  virtues  of  their  Fonndress.  In  fact, 
the  book  will,  and  ought  to  be,  read  as  a  hand-book  of  th  novitiate. 
There  is  no  such  power  of  perpetuity  in  a  religions  body  ns  tliat  de- 
rived from  identity  of  object  and  operation ;  firstly,  because  that  gives 
to  each  convent  a  force,  strength,  and  stability  equal  to  the  moral  in- 
fluence of  all ;  but,  secondly,  and  more  particularly,  because  deviationi, 
from  the  tievot  of  the  foundert  ofreligiout  ordtrny  are  ordinarily  de- 
tiiitiont  from  the  will  of  God,  by  which  the  founder  has  been  inspired. 
"  Reforms"  and  "  Restoration*,"  thereafter,  are  the  symbols  of  weak- 
ness, and  they  are  also  proofs  that  the  Holy  Church  pronounces  sen- 
tence on  the  first  change. 

The  life  of  Catherine  McAuley  will  have  another  claim  upon  the 
Order  and  the  public — that  it  is  a  history  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy.  The 
gradual  development — the  foundation  first  intended  only  for  the  poor 
of  Dublin — the  establishment  in  Kingstown,  Garlow,  and  TuUamore— 
the  taking  possession  of  the  ancient  Convent  in  Limerick  city— the 
opening  of  Bermondsey  and  Birmingham  and  all  the  rest,  will  snpply 
to  the  Order,  to  the  public,  and  to  the  families  of  the  devoted  Re- 
ligious, a  reference  in  times  to  come,  by  which  the  germs  shall  be 
traced  of  a  work  educational,  philanthropic,  and  religious,  that  already 
fills  the  mind  of  the  world.  Without  this  history,  too,  Reverend 
Mother  could  no  more  be  seen  than  an  unknown  historical  character 
alone  in  a  picture.  We  contemplate  her  in  the  multitude  of  her  oc- 
cupations, never  changing  temper  or  temperament;  always  in  her 
place,  in  chapel,  choir,  and  cell,  and  always  fnlly  occupied  by  matters 
that  would  take  her  away  from  such  duties :  ever  and  ever  consulted, 
interrupted,  importuned,  now  by  the  scruples  of  a  novice,  again  by 
the  complaints  of  a  tradesman,  but  always  the  same ;  needing  money, 
and  not  knowing  where  to  look  for  it ;  advice,  and  having  no  one  to 
give  it ;  needing  rest  and  quiet, — ever  impossible ;  but  all  the  time  the 
light  of  a  happy  heart  in  her  smile,  and  of  unshaken  confidence  in  her 
calm,  mild  eye^.  The  history  of  the  Order  is  as  necessary,  to  know 
and  appreciate  Reverend  Mother,  as  the  events  of  his  career  are,  to 
become  acquainted  with  a  warr'ar  or  statesman.  Mere  description  is 
nearly  useless  for  such  a  purpose. 

And  the  same  may  be  said  of  another  fcatnre  in  this  book — the 
interior  life  of  a  convent.  The  portnrbation  of  poor  Sister  Mary 
Teresa,  tlte  "cell  regulator,"  when  all  the  cells  had  been  filled,  and 
"  two  new  Sisters"  wee  announced  to  have  arrived ;  the  running  to 
Beverend  Mother  to  know  where  they  are  to  sleep ;  and  the  answer, 
ao  full  of  sweet  contert  and  quiet  Joy,  and  so  contagious,  too,  are  all  of 


'  •^iArMei^tmSaik^'tiik 


INTRODUCTION. 


85 


resg.  In  fact, 
th-  novitiate, 
xly  as  Uiat  de- 
EU1S6  that  gives 
)  the  moral  in- 
,ase  detiationt, 
ordinarily  de- 
\  been  inspired, 
nbols  of  weak- 
ironounoes  sen- 

;laim  upon  the 
of  Mercy.   The 
aly  for  the  poor 
nd  Tullamore— 
lerick  city— tho 
rest,  will  snpply 
be  devoted  Re- 
germs  shall  be 
)us,  that  already 
,  too,  Reverend 
toriool  character 
titude  of  her  oo- 
always  in  her 
ipied  by  matters 
1  ever  consulted, 
novice,  again  by 
needing  money, 
having  no  one  to 
t  all  the  time  the 
confidence  in  her 
aessary,  to  know 
lis  career  are,  to 
ere  description  is 

a  this  book— the 
joor  Sister  Mary 
d  been  filled,  and 
i ;  tho  running  to 
and  the  answer, 
ous,too,  are  all  of 


them  tin  tings  which  bring  out  the  great  features  of  t^^e  character  we 
want  to  study.  And  so  of  the  countless  journeys  hither  and  thither, 
and  tlte  teaming  consolations  which  made  "the  sun  shine  almost  too 
brightly,"  because  the  soul  was  so  full  of  light.  The  begging  of 
prayers  for  such  a  house  and  such  an  object;  the  conversations  at  the 
death-bed  of  a  Sister  dear  to  her,  and  (he  call  to  the  parlor  to  receive 
a  cup  of  bitterness  from  pride — which  repaid  itself  for  helping  her  by 
ofibnding  her — and  .the  imperturbable  calmness  with  which  she  bore 
it ;  the  supplying  of  the  little  ribbons  and  bits  of  silk  to  the  sweet 
Sister  whose  last  days  were  soothed  by  the  hope  of  supplying  "  a  poor 
hawker's  basket"  coming  on  the  festival  of  our  Patron  Saint;  the 
charming  lessons  on  "  reserve,"  humility,  and  hope ;  in  a  word,  the 
life  of  Ohrist  in  her,  and  her  wonderful  communication  to  the  nuns  of 
the  singleness  of  purpose,  self-sacrifice,  and  prayerfnlnes-i,  which  made 
all  the  actions  of  her  children  the  operations  of  the  indwelling  spirit 
of  Jesus — are  simply  and  affectionately  brought  out  in  these  pages,  and 
they  give  us  a  view,  of  the  Foundress  of  the  Order  of  Meroy,  which 
the  Catholic  Oharob,  and  many  a  one  in  the  Protestant  communions, 
w^ill  value. 

A  list  of  the  Convents  of  Mercy  throughout  tho  world  is  added  at 
the  end  of  the  work,  and  an  obituary  of  the  nuns.  The  convents  will 
be  fonnd  to  number  over  two  hundred,  and  the  "  Gliildren  of  Bene- 
diction," who  gained  their  lives  by  losing  them,  over  three  hundred. 
During  thirty  years,  between  endowments  and  tiie  surplus  dowries*  of 
tlieir  children,  the  fathers  of  the  Irish  race  have  expended  Mten  hun- 
dred thouiand  pounds  for  the  poor  and  ignorant,  through  thie  Order 
alone,  and  given  their  children's  litet  besides.  For  it  will  be  recollected 
that  in  Ireland,  ?tc.,  the  interest  of  her  inheritance  must  support  every 
lady  who  becomes  a  Sister  of  Mercy. 

What  Catherine  McAaley  was  can  never  be  entirely  known  unless  to 
God,  and  her  character  and  praise  are  in  her  mission  and  its  fruits. 
She  was  established  by  Glod  "  to  go  forth  and  bear  fruit ;  and  that  her 
fruit  should  remain,"t  the  Gabriel  of  a  new  message,  and  the  Raphael 
of  new  blessings  to  the  world  and  the  poor.  ^Vhat  God  may  intend 
to  reveal  cannot  be  foreseen,  and  what  Ha  has  revealed  in  her  regard 
is  not  entirely  known ;  but  it  cannot  surprise*  any  one,  if  the  title  of 
this  little  book  at  some  future  period  shall  be  changed  by  the  command 
of  Heaven,  and  the  aureola  of  sanctity  surround  its  pages.  Further  the 
writer,  at  this  present  time,  dares  not  go— not  because  facts  are  want- 


•  Excew  of  dowry  above  £500. 


t  John,  xvi.  16. 


86 


INTBODUCTION. 


ing,  bat  beoanse  prudence  is  supposed  to  forbid.  He  begs  leave  to 
oonolude  this  too  lengthy  introduction'*'  bj  lines  which,  for  the  sake  of 
the  subject,  ought  not  to  be  allovred  to  smk  into  oblivion : 

LINES  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  REV.  MOTHER  CATHERINE  MoAULE"?. 
Sbb  has  passed  away  forever,  bnt  the  sanligbt  of  her  hrow 
Still  brightens  o'er  the  lonely  home  that  weeps  in  sorrow  now : 
Though  the  lips  we  loved  are  silent,  still  the  pleading  voice  we  hear 
And  the  soft,  low  tones  of  melody  full  sweetly  on  O'lr  ear. 
She  bos  faded  I  but  the  fragrance  of  her  gentle  virtues  yet 
Wafts  memories  of  the  sanctified  we  never  can  forget ; 
And  the  gleaming  of  her  glorious  robe— the  radiance  of  her  crown, 
From  her  throne  of  bliss  in  heaven  are  still  beaming  brightly  down. 

Tes,  sainted  Mother  Catherine,  in  the  fulness  of  thy  love, 
Thou  art  with  us,  though  thy  spirit  dwells  beatified  above ; 
Thou  ort  near  us  in  thy  children,  who  work  for  us  day  by  day. 
When  they  dry  the  tear  of  angaish  from  the  orphan's  cheek  away ; 
And  they  whisper  words  of  comfort  to  the  heart  bowed  down  with  grief, 
And  to  nakedness  and  hunger  bring  the  tidings  of  relief; 
And  they  lift  fVom  off  the  mourner's  heart  awhile  its  load  of  care, 
And,  with  words  of  fuith  and  hope,  they  chase  the  demon  of  despair. 


r,^ 


And  when  sitting  by  the  lonely  hearth,  they  speak  of  Him  who  diod, 
And  they  place  the  child  of  wretchedness  by  gentle  Miiry's  side  1 
When  they  see  the  tear-drop  glisten  on  the  cheek  of  aged  crime. 
Bringing  back  once  more  the  blessings  of  a  sinless,  happy  time ; 
When  they  watch  the  wearied  spirit  wing  its  parting  flight  away, 
And  they  soothe  the  mourner's  weeping  o'er  the  cold  and  senseless  ciny ; 
When  they  teach  the  young  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  He  has  trod, 
And  then  kneel  down  to  offer  all  these  works  of  love  to  Qod  ;— 


Oh  I  'tis  in  that  hour  that  gratitude  no  tongue  can  ever  tell. 

And  the  peace  no  words  can  ever  speak,  draw  round  us  like  a  spoil ; 

And  (hen  humbly  gating  heavenward,  with  eyes  of  faith,  we  sea 

How  our  blessed  Lord  is  helping  all  who  serve  Him  faithfully. 

And  those  so  faithful,  who  are  they  t— they  are  with  you  everywhora— 

In  the  hospital,  the  prison,  in  the  homos  of  sin  and  cnre  ; 

And  briitht  angels  hovtr  near  to  guard  them  whore  tliey  stay. 

For  the  llghi  of  Mkbot  gaidos  them.  Sister-angola,  on  their  way  1 1 


*  The  above  Inti -eduction  was  written  by  the  Venerable  Arohdeaeon 
O'Brien,  D.  D.,  etc.,  who,  as  n-iend,  )>eMcnictor,  or  spiritual  director,  has  been 
oonneotv  '  with  the  Order  of  Moroy  for  about  thirty  years. 

fThe  above  tines  were  written  in  1841,  by  Mlts  Elisabeth  R ,  of  Carlow, 

-Hk  young  lady  who  was  for  some  time  In  the  novitiate  under  Mother  MoAuley, 
bat  was  obllgsd  to  leave  on  account  of  llliboaltb. 


begs  leave  to 
for  the  sake  of 


S'2  MoAULET. 


low: 

e  we  hear 


er  crown, 
tly  down. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


day, 

ek  away ; 
own  with  grief, 

I  of  core, 
I  of  despair. 

T»  wlio  diod, 
f's  Bide  1 
,  crime, 
r  time ; 
It  away, 

1  aenselesB  day ; 
lias  trod, 
lod;— 

ell, 

ike  a  spoil ; 

weiee 
fully. 

everywhor* — 

» 

stay, 

leir  way  1 1 

arable  Arohdeaoon 
director,  ha»  been 

R ,  of  Carlow, 

r  Mother  MoAuley, 


CHAPTER    I. 

Womati    Hi    the  Church.— "  The  devout  sex."— General    oharooterUtios    of 
Catbjrine  MoAuley. 

WOMAN  ministered  to  Jesus  when  Pharisees  scoffed  at  Him  ; 
she  followed  Jesns  when  Apostles  fled :  as  sinless  and  as 
penitent,  she  stood  by  Him  in  the  hour  of  his  ignominy:  last  at 
the  cross,  sBo  was  first  at  the  sepulchre  ;  and,  at  the  very  dawn  of 
Christianity,  if  excluded  from  the  higher  functions  of  the  Apostle* 
ship,  she  is  ever  ready  to  perform  the  works  of  mercy  in  the  infant 
Church,  and  to  "  wash  the  feet  of  the  Saints."  In  every  subse 
queut  age,  the  sex  which  the  Church  styles  "  the  devout"  hat 
proved,  in  numerous  instances,  that  physical  weakness  does  not 
necessarily  imply  spiritual  inferiority;  and  of  this  the  subject  oi 
these  pages  will  give  additional  and  illustrious  proof. 

But  in  the  whole  range  of  Christian  biography  it  ^ould  not  be 
easy  to  find  a  life  so  replete  with  beautifiil  and  interesting  incidents 
of  the  most  opposite  nature.  We  shall  see  Catherine  McAuloy, 
now  as  almost  a  beggar,  again  as  heiress  of  immense  wealth. 
Reared  among  Protestants  whom  she  loved  wiih  deep  aff'  jlion,  yet 
openly  professing  the  persecuted  creed  they  so  scornf  .iiy  ignored. 
Prejudiced  to  an  almost  insuperable  extent  against  conventual 
life,  yet  gathering  around  her  In  rigid  monastic  discipline  a  galaxy 
of  the  noble,  the  gifted,  and  the  beautiful.  Casting  away  wealth  an 
if  it  wfiv  an  encnmbn^nce,  yet  ref^ing  to  loan  the  trifling  sum  of 


w 


88 


,:--'^,|lllilJ|lllni|lll|l.lllllllllliPP.» 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


flye  pounds  to  a  titled  lady.    Now  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  ; 
again  weeping  and  praying  for  hoars  before  her  Calvary.   To-day  she 
refuses  a  high  matrhnonial  alliance  ;  ere  midnight  she  is  handed  from 
sentinel  to  sentinel  on  the  military  road.    To-day  she  is  w  aited  on  by 
the  most  illustrious  ecclesiastics  in  the  three  kingdonis  ;  to-morrow 
she  describes  herself  as  biding  from  the  sheriff.    Now  she  almost 
sinks  beneath  the  weight  of  her  heavy  crosses ;   and  again  she 
complains  that  "the  sun  shone  too  brightly,"  because  her  soul 
was  flooded  with  supernatural  light    Capable  of  explaining,  with 
superhuman  eloquence,  the  deep  things  of  asceticism,  yet  ever 
seeking  to  instruct  the  most  ignorant  in  the  rudiments  of  Chris- 
tianity.   Overwhelmed  with  the  most  distracting  business,  yet  ever 
placid  and  recollected.    Rigorous  to  self  to  a  degree  which  God 
alone  can  know,  yet  tenderly  compassionate  to  all  others.     Astute 
as  a  diplomatist,  yet  simple  as  a  little  child.   Conferring  fovors  as  if 
the  recipient  obliged  her  b  ;  accepting  them,  yet  never  receiving  the 
smallest  without  gratitude.     We  shall  see  her  as  a  dependent  on 
the  bounty  of  her  friends,  as  the  fondled  idol  of  a  luxurious  home, 
as  the  kind  nurse  of  her  adopted  parents,  as  the  youthful  mother 
of  all  the  poor  in  her  vicinity,  as  the  friend  of  several  of  the  great 
personages  of  her  time,  as  the  Foundress  of  a  new  religious  Insti- 
tute, and  the  exemplar  and  support  of  its  members.    Now  she 
kneels  to  implore  protection  for  a  poor  girl  in  danger,  and  again 
she  enters  the  abode  of  sin,  to  snatch  from  a  fate  immeasurably 
worse  than  death,  one  whose  beauty  is  about  to  become  her  corse. 
She  courageously  upbraids  a  great  lawyer  who  would  sully  the  fair 
fame  of  her  prot6g6e ;    and  years  after,  he  acknowledgcE  that 
her  very  look  reclaimed  him,  and  that  the  remembrance  of  it  was 
his  safeguard  through  life. 

Catherine  was  sensitive  as  a  m?t) .->>«►  yot  brave  as  a  royal  oak  ; 
gifted  with  a  high  degree  of  the  m'l  i<  K'  humor  pecoiiar  to  her 
country-people,  yet  incapable  of  wo4;  ■■.-.<  the  most  sensitive,  or 
displeasing  the  most  fastidious ;  prudebt  in  the  loftiest  sense  of 
the  word,  yot  ever  ready  to  listen  with  respect  to  the  opinions  of 
others  ;  habitually  gay,  yet  never  losing  that  retenue  so  strongly 
recommended  by  ( he  old  spiritualists,  and  which  we  can  hardly  ex- 
press in  English     Familiar  with  the  hidden  weaknesses  of  her 


'iM^-'-nffisii- 


LIFB  OF  OATHEBIKE   HOAULXT. 


indfi DO  linen; 
^.  To-day  she 
9  handed  from 
!  waited  on  by 
3 ;  to-morrow 
)w  she  almost 
md  again  she 
rase  her  sool 
iplaining,  with 
ism,  yet  ever 
ents  of  Chris- 
iness,  yet  erer 
Be  which  God 
hers.  Astnte 
ng  favors  as  if 
:  receiving  the 

dependent  on 
xurious  home, 
uthfnl  mother 
il  of  the  great 
religious  Insti- 
Brs.  Now  she 
;er,  and  again 

immeasurably 
}me  her  curse. 
1  sally  the  fair 
owledgcc  that 
ince  of  it  was 

s  a  royal  oak  ; 
lecoiiar  to  her 
t  sensitive,  or 
ftiest  sense  of 
:he  opinions  of 
te  so  strongly 
can  hardly  cx- 
inesses  of  her 


BjNritual  children,  yet  conscious  only  of  their  nobler  qualities. 
Losing  by  death,  or  otherwise,  every  one  she  held  dear,. yet  in  old 
age  continuing  to  build  up  her  Institute  with  all  the  ardor  of 
youth.  Magnificent  in  her  conceptions,  yet  scmpuloos  in  their 
least  details.  Gifted  with  an  intellect  of  the  highest  order,  yet  ca- 
pable of  inspiring  mediocre,  or  even  low  capacities,  to  do  great 
things  for  God.  Able  to  wield  the  pen  with  the  grace  of  a  Se- 
vignd  and  the  wisdom  of  a  Mauitenon,  yet  not  above  directing 
seamstresses  or  presiding  in  a  laundry.  Polite  as  a  Chesterfield, 
yet  without  a  particle  of  human  respect ;  bland  as  a  courtier,  yet 
choosing  to  wear  out  her  life  among  beggars :  vigorous  of  consti- 
tution, yet  able  to  sympathize  with  the  weakly.  Gracious,  benign, 
beloved,  and  revered,  she  was  capable  of  impressing  the  most  spir- 
itual men  of  her  time  with  exalted  ideas  of  her  sanctity.  Like 
Queen  Esther,  she  could  make  the  most  of  her  beauty  when  occa- 
sion required  ;  like  Nano  Nagle,  she  glories  in  being  the  slave  of 
the  poor-;  like  St.  Vincent,  she  is  indefatigable  in  action  ;  like  St. 
Teresa,  she  is  assiduous  in  contemplation  ;  like  St.  Francis  of 
Sales,  she  is  the  essence  of  meekness.  A  poet  by  nature,  yet  tho 
most  practical  woman  of  her  age  ;  a  Superior,  but  ever  seeking  to 
obey  ;  possessing  almost  absolute  authority,  but  using  it  only  to 
lessen  the  labors  of  others  and  increase  her  own.  Genial,  tender, 
and  compassionate,  none  could  regard  her  with  indifference,  none 
could  approach  her  and  not  carry  away  some  impress  of  her  good- 
ness. And  all  her  rare  and  magnificent  endowments  she  turned  to 
one  object — the  glory,  the  sole  glory,  the  greater  glory  of  God  I 

Her  community  is  reduced  to  one  professed,  and  her  novices 
grieve  almost  as  they  do  who  have  no  hope  ;  but  the  day  of  be- 
reavement she  emphatically  styles  "  the  day  the  Lord  haih  made.'* 
"  If  all  Christians,"  says  she,  "  are  bound  to  receive  afflictions  with 
resignation,  we  should  surely  receive  them  with  gratitude  and  joy." 
Like  Rachel,  she  mourns  for  her  children  ;  but  she  does  not  refuse 
to  be  comforted,  for  she  delights  in  forming  a  "community  in 
heaven."  From  childhood,  not  even  an  enemy  could  charge  her 
with  a  fault ;  and  when  she  was  censuredy  it  was  for  virtue  too 
sublime  for  even  the  good  to  appreciate. 

The  sanctity  of  every  servant  of  God  is  unlike  th«t  of  all  others. 


'i 
'I 


1 


w 


40 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


In  many  things  they  all  agree,  in  some  they  all  differ.  Charity 
alone  makes  the  Saint ;  there  is  no  other  road  to  high  or  iov  sanc- 
tity. Bnt  each  practises  this  virtue  in  a  peculiar  fashion  :  and 
hence  with  perfect  propriety  the  Church  may  sing  of  every  one  of 
her  confessors  :  "  There  was  none  found  like  this  one  for  observing 
the  law."  But  charity  was  the  grand  characteristic  of  Catherine  ; 
it  clothed  her  like  a  garment ;  she  appeared  to  practise  it  without 
effort.  In  this  virtue,  at  least,  she  possessed  that  "  facility"  which 
Benedict  XIV.  ascribes  to  heroic  sanctity.  Urged  by  love,  she 
gave  herself  and  all  she  possessed,  without  any  reserve,  to  God ; 
and  she  deemed  the  honor  of  serving  Him  in  His  poor,  more  than 
a  sufficient  reward  for  her  immense  and  unceasing  labor.  She  had 
given  "  the  whole  substance  of  her  house  for  love,  and  she  despised 
it  all  as  nothing." 

Such  is  the  grand  whole  which  presents  itself  in  luxuriant  beauty 
to  the  biographer ;  su  h  are  the  great  outlines  of  the  character 
whose  history  these  pages  will  record.  At  first  sight  it  strikes  us 
as  a  vision  of  things  too  good  for  earth  ;  and  doubt  might  well 
mingle  with  our  admiration,  did  not  "  her  works  remain  to  praise 
her  in  the  gate." 

Beautiful  as  an  Arabian  tale,  few  lives  can  sarpass  this  in  ro- 
mantic incident.  No  painter  would  mingle  lights  and  shades  so 
daringly  on  his  canvas  ;  no  musician  would  scatter  his  lentoa  and 
aUegroa  in  such  reckless  profusion ;  no  novelist  would  outrage 
probability  by  exhibiting  his  heroine  under  aspects  so  varied  ;  no 
poet  would  admit  ingredients  so  diverse  into  his  epic  ;  and  here, 
as  in  so  many  other  instances,  the  feeble,  Qickering  flame  of  the 
most  highly  wrought  fiction,  pales  before  the  calm,  steady  light  oi 
tmtb. 


MM 


Ifer.  Charity 
h  or  low  sane- 
fashion  :  and 
f  every  one  of 
!  for  observing 
of  Catherine ; 
tise  it  without 
facility"  which 
J  by  love,  she 
erve,  to  God ; 
>or,  more  than 
bor.  She  had 
id  she  despised 

xuriant  beauty 
the  character 
:ht  it  strikes  ns 
ibt  might  well 
main  to  praise 

tass  this  in  ro- 
and  shades  so 

his  lento8  and 
would  outrage 

BO  varied ;  no 
pic ;  and  here, 
;  flame  of  the 
steady  light  oi 


CHAPTER    II. 

Dublin.— Baggtot-btreet  Ilouse,  182"/.— Era  of  the  Emancipation.— Openingr  of 
tlie  year  1787.— ApOHtaay  of  Lord  Dunboyne.— Birtli  of  Catherine.— Differ- 
ence of  states'.ie.its  aa  to  the  year  of  her  birth.— An  Eastern  tradition.— Keli- 
([ioua  state  c/  !rol«nd  in  the  18th  century.— '« /*#,  MUta  iii<."— Extract  from 
.  Gorrea.- A  tngedy.— The  Earl  of  Cheaterflold,  viceroy.— He  permite  tlie 
reopening  of  »onie  old  Cntholio  churches. — Attempt))  to  open  sohooU.— - 
Nano  Nagle. — Princess  Louise. 

DUBLIN,  the  far-fomed  and  beautiful  metropolis  of  the  Emer^ 
aid  Isle,  lies  pictured  in  our  mind's  eyes,  with  its  magnificent 
Churches,  its  noble  institutions  for  the  relief  of  every  species  of 
human  misery,  its  colleges,  its  schools,  its  spacious  streets,  its  flowery 
suburbs  ;  and  the  picture  is  one  whose  beauty  Time,  the  great  de- 
stroyer, will  rather  enhance  than  diminish.  Well  may  the  scattered 
children  of  Erin  be  proud  of  the  lovely  capital  of  their  native  land  I 
Well  may  the  poor  emigrants,  who  cro.  il  the  decks  of  vessels 
destined  to  bear  them  JfVom  their  poor  but  happy  homes,  weep  to 
leave  a  country,  which,  viewed  from  the  sea  at  any  point,  seems  a 
fairyland  of  beauty  I  Should  they  catch  their  last  glimpse  of  Erin 
from  Dublin  Bay,  how  enchanting  the  scene  I  Whether  the  gray 
mists  of  morning  steep  the  sleeping  city  ;  or  the  full  blaze  of  noon- 
tide  gild  its  numerous  domes,  villas,  and  palatial  residences  ;  or 
the  mellow  light  of  evening  bathes,  as  in  a  flood  of  tenderness, 
beauties  soon  to  become  invisible  to  their  tearful  eyes,  and  far  from 
their  loving  hearts  ; — the  view  of  Dublin  is  exquisitely  lovely.  But 
there  is  a  deeper  cause  for  tears.  They  leave  behind,  psrhape, 
parents  who  reared  them,  brothers  and  sisters  that  love  them,  the 
friends  of  their  youth,  the  companions  of  their  riper  years.  Will 
they  ever  meet  such  friends,  such  companions,  again  ?  Can  any 
country  become  more  sacred  to  them  than  that  which  contains  be- 
neath its  green  sward  the  crumbling  bones  of  theur  sainted  fore- 
fathers ? 


i^L. 


IP 


43 


LIFE  OF  cathebhtb  mcaulet. 


Nov,  if  the  rc-adcr  sliould  have  a  small  portion  of  that  innate 
facility  for  gitemng,  so  highly  developed  in  the  thrifty  denisena  of 
New  England,  it  will  be  superflaoos  to  say  that  we  are  about  to 
take  him  to  Dublin.    Busy  Imagination  will  gladly  lend  her  wingn 
for  the  excursion.    But  onr  destination  is  not  to  its  miniature  pal- 
aces, nor  yet  to  admire  the  "  frozen  music"  of  its  architectural 
grandeurs  ;  neither  do  we  purpose  to  w&nder  among  its  eloquent 
ruins,  and  trace  in  its  shattered  marbles  the  glories  of  happier 
days.    There  is  one  spot  dearer  to  us  than  all  these.    Yon  will 
find  it  towards  the  end  of  Lower  Baggot^treet,  on  the  southern 
side  of  the  city.    Here,  a  large  house,  quite  detached  from  the 
neighboring  buildings,  will  at  once  attract  your  attention.    That 
is  the  cradle  of  the  Order  of  Mercy.    Go  back  in  thought  to  the 
year  1 827.    The  noble  pile  has  been  just  erected.    Enter.    Behold 
the  saintly  Foundress  surrounded  by  a  small  but  devoted  band, 
who,  guided  by  her  example  rather  than  her  words,  astonish  all  by 
the  heroism  of  their  virtues.    When  our  readers  shall  have  become 
familiar  with  the  history  of  Catherine  and  her  associates,  tb3 
zeal  with  which  they  sought  out  and  relieved  mental  and  bodily 
suffering,  the  virtues  of  their  iuterior  lives,  and  the  wonderful  things 
ther  effected  for  God's  glory,  they  may  well  exclaim :   "  There 
were  giants  on  the  earth  in  those  days."    There  was  certainly  one 
giant,  if  we  may  judge  of  her  prowess  by  the  magnitude  of  the 
work  which  the  Divine  aid  enabled  her  to  accomplish  in  the  Church. 
A  more  auspicious  era  than  1821  could  scarcely  be  selected  for 
the  establishment  of  a  Catholic  Institute.    It  was  just  before 
Emancipation  was  wrung  from  the  fears  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment, notwithstanding  the  rash,  unchristian  oath  of  the  Bishop  of 
Osnaburg.*    The  Catholics  of  Ireland  were  united  as  one  man, 
and  obstinately  determined  to  conquer  or  die  in  the  strife  for  re- 
ligious liberty.    The  Catholic  Association  was  in  the  zenith  of  its 
fame ;  its  honored  walls  echoed  the  soul-stirring  eloquence  of 
O'Connell,  and  the  gifted  Shiel  was  gathering  in  a  noble  cause  his 
most  glorious  laurels.    The  enthusiasm  of  this  period  has  seldom 
been  surpassed  in  any  country.    It  was  indeed  a  fitting  epoch  to 

*  Frederick,  Duke  of  York,  heir  presumptive  to  the  orowa. 


I 


f  that  innate 
ty  denisena  of 
are  aboat  to 
end  her  wingti 
miniature  pal- 
architectural 
f  its  eloquent 
es  of  happier 
se.    Yoa  will 
the  Boathem 
hed  from  the 
entioD.    That 
bought  to  the 
nter.    Behold 
ievoted  band, 
istonish  all  by 
II  bare  become 
iffiodates,  tbs 
»1  and  bodily 
>uderful  things 
aim:   "There 
I  certainly  one 
^nitude  of  the 
in  the  Church. 
i)e  selected  for 
IS  just  before 
ritlsh  Qovern- 
the  Bishop  of 
1  as  one  man, 
le  strife  for  re- 
e  zenith  of  its 
:  eloquence  of 
loble  cause  his 
od  has  seldom 
tting  epoch  to 

I  orowu. 


LIFE  or  CATHXBHrX  MOAULET. 


41 


inaugurate  in  the  capital  the  Institute  of  Mercy,  which,  like  the 
leafy  branches  of  a  magnificent  tree,  has  since  spread  itself  OTer 
the  world,  affording  food  and  shelter  to  thousands. 

But  we  must  go  back  forty  years  farther.  The  year  1781 
opened  gloomily  on  the  Irish  Church.  Dr.  Butler,  Bishop  of  Cork, 
exchanged  his  mitre  for  an  earldom,  and  his  apostasy  was  esteemed 
a  greater  calamity  than  the  enactment  of  ten  new  penal  laws  ;  a 
calamity  for  which  his  repentance  some  years  later  seemed  but  a 
poor  reparation.  Pafore  the  end  of  that  year,  however,  a  child 
was  born,  who  was  destined  to  win  back  hundreds  to  the  One 
Fold,  to  remove  the  prejudices  of  thousands,  and  even  to  establish 
in  the  fine  Catholic  city,  whose  shepherd  had  just  proved  himself  a 
hireling,  a  convent  whose  members  might  bring  more  glory  to  the 
Church  than  this  sad  defection  had  robbed  her  of. 

Catherine  EuzA^EIH  McAclet  was  bom  on  the  Feast  of  St. 
Michael,  September  29,  1781,  at  Stormanstown  House,  County 
Dublin.*  Her  parents,  James  and  Eleanor  McAuley,  were  both 
of  ancient  and  respectable  Catholic  families,  nor  were  her  ancestom 
all  undistinguished  in  ttie  annals  of  her  country.  Yet  poor  is  the 
glory  to  be  gathered  on  the  field,  or  at  the  council  board,  com- 
pared with  that  which  has  cast  its  aureola  around  Catherine ;  and 
if  her  race  were  destined  to  terminate  with  her,  the  star  of  her 
family  had  set  with  more  than  meridian  splendor.  She  was  the  first 
of  three  children  that  blessed  the  happy  union  of  her  parents. 


"  C«tlierlD«'i  gfodohild,  atill  IWng,  gives  the  date  of  her  birth  1704,  while  her 
friend,  Very  Kev.  Dean  Goffrey,  whdin  M.  Mnry  V.  Hartnett  has  copied,  give* 
it  1778.  Her  brother,  Dr.  James  McAuley,  tolu  the  Sisters  at  the  time  of  her 
death,  that  she  had  Just  attained  her  fifly-fourth  year;  contiequently  she  was 
liorn  in  1787.  It  is  ourious  that  M.  V .  Hartnett  should  describe  lier  as  yonnff 
and  beautiful  when  she  became  an  liviress,  wlien,  according  to  her  olironology, 
slie  was  then  forty-four.  Now  beauty  is  seldom  retained  to  so  advanced  an 
ago,  and  youth  never.  Dr.  O'Brien  h«d  an  interview  with  her  in  1838,  of  which 
liis  memory  is  so  tenacious  that  he  sayi,  "  tiie  loolt,  bearing,  and  oonvcreution, 
are  Ktill  us  tVcKh  in  his  mind  as  the  day  tlio  interview  took  pliioe."  Yot,  "the 
full,  Btoody,  blue  eye,  so  full  of  light,  and  tlie  freiih  bloom  of  the  pure,  trunspa- 
reiit  cheek,"  which  iha  venerable  Ar«hdoacon  so  happily  dencribos,  could 
scarcely  belong  to  a  woman  of  sixty.  It  will  be  seen  that  1778  and  1787  are 
composed  of  the  same  figures,  and  oua  .might  be  easily  written  or  printed  in 
mistake  for  the  other. 


I 


4A 


LIFK  OF  CATHSBIKE  MCAULET. 


An  Eastern  tradition  relates  that  when  the  holy  infant  Mary 
appeared  to  bless  the  declining  years  of  St.  Joachim  and  St.  Anne, 
the  former,  little  anticipating  the  glorious  destiny  to  be  fulfilled  in 
bis  fair  child,  the  peerless  and  Immacalate  Virgin,  regretted  that  he 
had  not  become  the  father  of  a  son ;  but  St.  Anne  comforted  him  by 
relating  a  vision  she  had  had,  indicative  of  her  child's  future  great- 
ness. We  know  not  whether  the  pious  father  of  our  little  Cathe' 
rine  entertained  similar  thoughts  with  reference  to  his  new-bom 
babe,  but  we  do  know,  that  had  he  been  able  to  penetrate  the 
veil  of  futurity,  had  be  been  vouchsafed  a  glimpse  of  the  work 
she  was  destined  to  accomplish,  bad  he  beheld  the  virgins  that 
would  follow  in  her  train,  had  he  seen  her  spiritual  children,  numer- 
ous as  the  stars  of  heaven,  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed,  he  would 
have  pressed  his  fragile  infant  to  his  manly  bosom  with  feelings 
akin  to  reverence,  and,  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  thanked  God  iur 
having  made  him  the  happy  father  of  such  a  child  I 

As  every  age  leaves  its  impress,  more  or  less,  on  those  it  ushers 
Into  being,  we  shall  here  pause  to  consider  the  religious  state  of 
Ireland  during  the  eighteenth  century. 

This  century  opened  with  the  barbarous  penal  code  in  full  force. 
The  condition  of  the  people  in  general  was  more  deplorable  than 
any  thing  we  can  imagine  at  this  distant  period.  Degradation  re- 
sulted from  continual  persecution,  ignorance  of  religion  (torn 
dearth  of  pastors,  and  literary  destitution  from  want  of  schools  ; 
for  Ireland,  which  in  bygone  days  had  provided  founders  and  pro- 
fessors for  the  greatest  universities  in  Europe,  did  not  now  possess 
one  Catholic  school.  The  people  knew  only  Jesus  Christ  and  Him 
crucified.  They  regarded  their  Faith  as  the  one  thing  necessary, 
and  they  kept  it  through  evil  report  and  good,  though  its  bright 
light  was,  in  many  instances,  obscured  by  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion, natural  consequences  of  the  cruel  rigime  to  which  they  were 
unhappily  subjected.  Many  of  the  best  fantUles  preferred  the 
inconveniences  of  exile  to  the  dangers  and  penalties  of  living  at 
home,  but  the  poor,  who  had  no  other  resource,  clung  to  their 
wretched  country,  buoyed  up,  perhaps,  with  the  hope  of  better 
times. 

What  a  sad  contrast  to  the  picture  Gdrres  has  left  ub  of  Ireland 


LIFE  OF  CATHERIKE  HCAULET. 


45 


ly  infant  Mary 
I  and  St.  Anne, 

be  falflUed  in 
jetted  that  be 
nforted  him  by 
's  fatare  great* 
>nr  little  Cathe> 
0  his  new-bora 
)  penetrate  the 
je  of  the  work 
lie  virgins  that 
ihildren,  numer- 
essed,  he  woald 
n  with  feelings 
hanked  God  for 
I 

those  it  nshera 
eligious  state  of 

de  in  full  force, 
deplorable  than 
Degradation  re- 
religion  f^om 
Eint  of  schools ; 
inders  and  pro- 
Dot  now  possess 
Christ  and  Him 
thing  necessary, 
oagh  its  bright 
:e  and  supersti- 
irhich  they  were 
3  preferred  the 
ties  of  living  at 
,  clung  to  their 
hope  of  better 

eft  us  of  Ireland 


In  the  Ages  of  Faith  :  "  Monasteries  and  schools  flourished  on  all 
sides :  and  as  the  former  were  distinguished  for  their  austere  disci- 
pline and  ascetic  piety,  so  the  latter  were  conspicuous  for  their 
cultivation  of  science.  While  the  flames  of  war  were  blazing 
around  her,  the  Green  Isle  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  repose.  When 
we  look  into  the  ecclesiastical  life  of  this  people,  we  are  tempted  to 
believe  that  some  pptent  spirits  had  transported  over  the  sea  the 
cells  of  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  with  all  their  hermits,  its  monaste- 
ries with  all  their  inmates,  and  had  settled  them  down  in  the  West- 
era  Isle ; — an  isle  which,  in  the  lapse  of  three  centuries,  gave  eight 
hundred  and  fifty  saints  to  the  Church  ;  won  over  to  Christianity 
the  north  of  Britain,  and  soon  after,  a  large  portion  of  the  yet 
pagan  Germany ;  and,  while  it  devoted  the  utmost  attention  to 
the  sciences,  cultivated  with  especial  care  the  mystical  contempla- 
tion in  her  religious  communities,  as  well  as  in  the  saints  whom 
they  produced." 

But  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Catholicity  seemed  crushed 
beyond  all  hope  of  resuscitation.  Yet  as  often  as  the  Church  has 
been  "doomed  to  death,"  so  often  has  she  proved  that  she  is  "fated 
not  to  die."  The  profane  wits  of  the  Revolution  had  shouted 
"Ite,  Missa  Est,"  after  their  fugitive  monarch,  but  they  were  mis- 
taken. Even  while  they  uttered  their  ribald  jests,  the  unspotted 
Victim,  the  clean  oblation,  the  Lamb  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of 
the  world,  was  offered  to  the'  Father,  in  the  upper  chamber  of  many 
a  house,  in  many  a  well-guarded  "Mass-field,"  where  the  blue 
heavens  formed  the  canopy,  and  the  tangled  branches  of  trees  were 
as  the  vaulted  roof  of  the  Cathedral.  The  fragrant  incense  no 
longer  wafted  its  wreaths  heavenward,  but  the  sighs  of  contrite 
hearts  ascended  thither ;  the  glorious  ritual  of  Rome  was  no  longer 
triumphantly  chanted,  but  it  was  still  whispered  in  secret  by  a 
faithful  generation  ;  the  pomp  and  pageantry  of  the  ancient  faith 
were  no  longer  witnessed  in  those  sublime  edifices  which  that  faith 
alone  could  raise,  but  a  Church  that  had  grown  and  waxed  strong 
in  dungeons  and  catacombs,  could  be  at  no  loss  for  places  in  which 
to  celebrate  her  tremendous  mysteries. 

Many  a  heathen  tyrant  had  desired  to  glorify  his  reign,  by  exter- 
minating the  rery  name  of  Christianity  in  the  world-wide  domain 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


1 


of  ancient  Rome.  Maximin  eren  boasted  that  he  had  seen  this 
Tictory  achieved.  Yet  some  who  had  heard  his  vain  boast,  lived 
to  see  Christianity  commence,  on  the  seven  hills  of  imperial  Home, 
her  eternal  reign  destined  to  extend  to  realms  the  most  ambitions 
of  the  Caesars  never  dreamt  of.  And  though  the  ''  Qentiles  raged, 
and  the  people  devised  vain  things,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth 
stood  np  against  the  Lord  and  against  His  Christ,"  and  the  best 
blood  in  many  lands  has  been  nhed  and  is  still  being  shed,  no 
hnman  power  can  prevail  against  the  indestmctible  Church,  and 
Miasa  Est  will  never  be  true  otherwise  than  as  that  Church  under- 
stands it. 

Thus  Catherine's  father  could  remember  the  time  when  a  chief- 
justice  declared  that  "  the  laws  did  not  presume  a  papist  to  exist 
in  the  kingdom  of  Ireland  ;"  but  let  the  persecution  cease  for  a 
while,  remove  the  pressure  of  the  penal  laws,  and  the  Church  will 
be  seen  to  rise  phoenix-like  from  her  ashes,  immortal  in  her  youth, 
but  venerable  in  her  antiquity ;  transcendent  in  her  bcaaty,  though 
she  wears  the  stigmata  of  persecution  ;  without  spot  or  wrinkle, 
though  the  world  and  hell  have  done  their  worst  npon  her ;  the 
beauteous  Bride  of  the  Lamb,  ever  adorned  and  ever  adorning  her- 
self to  meet  her  Spouse  in  heaven  I 

The  first  gleam  of  hope  that  burst  npon  the  persecuted  race, 
was  the  result  of  a  tragic  event  which  occurred  in  1745,  and  which 
Catherine's  father  well  remembered.  *0n  St.  Patrick's  day,  a  cour- 
ageous priest  having  rentured  to  celebrate  Mass  in  a  large  store 
in  Cook-street,  Dublin,  the  people  assembled  in  immense  crowds  to 
assist  at  the  Holy  Sacrifice.  Mothers  held  up  their  little  ones  to 
gaze  on  the  mde  altar  ;  every  one  must  see  the  priest,  every  one 
must  hear  his  voice.  It  is  St.  Patrick's  day,  and  all  are  eager  to 
confess  the  faith  which  St.  Patrick  preached  to  thehr  ancestors. 
But  no  house  could  contain  such  multitudes  ;  the  building  gave 
way  ;  many  were  maimed  and  bruised,  and  the  ofQciating  priest, 
with  nine  of  his  flock,  became  martyrs  on  the  spot !  Shocked  at 
this  tragedy,  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  then  viceroy,  moved  by  pity 
rather  than  by  a  sense  of  justice,  connived  at  the  reopening  of  a 
few  old  Catholic  chapels.  There  remained  unnoticed  for  years, 
their  respective  congregations  quietly  but  steadily  increasing.    Fo* 


LIFB  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


47 


had  seen  this 
lin  boast,  lived 
imperial  Home, 
noist  ambitions 
Qentiles  raged, 
s  of  the  earth 
,"  and  the  best 
being  shed,  no 
lie  Church,  and 
;  Church  under- 

3  when  a  chief- 
papist  to  exist 
ion  cease  for  a 
the  Church  will 
al  in  her  youth, 
beauty,  though 
ipot  or  wrinkle, 
upon  her ;  the 
er  adorning  her- 

persecnted  race, 
1145,  and  which 
ck's  day,  a  cour- 
in  a  lai^e  store 
uense  crowds  to 
iir  little  ones  to 
priest,  every  one 
all  are  eager  to 
their  ancestors, 
"le  building  gare 
)fficiating  priest, 
)t !  Shocked  at 
',  moved  by  pity 
)  reopening  of  a 
oticed  for  years, 
increasing.    Fo- 


Iltical  reasons,  not  the  least  of  which  was  the  success  of  the  Amer 
ican  Revolution,  moved  the  Government  to  make  a  few  "  conces 
aions  to  His  Majesty's  Catholic  subjects,"  and  gave  rise  to  hopes 
not  folly  realized  till  1829,  when  the  barbarous  code  that  would 
have  disgraced  even  a  Nero,  was  almost  entirely  wiped  from  the 
statute-book. 

While,  however,  the  penal  laws  were  still  in  full  force,  a  school 
was  opened  in  Corlt  by  the  devoted  Nano  Nagle,  the  reviver  of 
education  and  monasticism  in  Ireland.  And  here  it  may  not  be 
out  of  place  to  give  the  reader  a  glance  at  the  history  of  that  illus- 
trious woman.  Bom  in  1728,  of  an  ancient  family  which  had  re 
mained  true  to  the  faith  through  all  the  horrors  of  persecution, 
she  was,  while  still  a  child,  sent  to  France  to  acquire  an  education 
suitable  to  her  rank.  Noble  Irish  families  then  moved  in  the  high- 
est French  society,  and  Miss  Nagle,  gifted  as  she  was  with  beauty 
and  talent,  bad  no  tooner  completed  her  studies  than  she  plunged 
into  the  vortex  of  fashionable  life  with  all  the  ardor  of  her  impetu- 
ous nature.  The  star  wherever  she  appeared,  she  shone  with  pecu- 
liar lustre  at  the  brilliant  Court  of  Louis  XV.  Indeed,  her  pious 
mother  sometimes  wept  over  the  frivolity  of  her  beautiful  daugh- 
ter; but  her  father  was  not  the  only  one  who  protested  that 
"  after  all  there  was  something  good  in  poor  Honorie."  The  world 
never  completely  dried  up  her  heart,  and  amid  all  her  levity  she 
still  retained  one  good  quality,  which  is  never  the  only  good  one 
in  the  soul  that  possesses  it — compassion  for  the  poor.  Ere  she 
had  completed  her  twentieth  year,  an  occurrence  seemingly  acci- 
dental changed  the  whole  tenor  of  her  life ;  and  to  her  fidelity  lo 
grace  on  that  occasion  is  due  the  salvation  of  innumerable  souls. 
Returning  one  morning  from  a  ball,  she  observed  a  group  of  poor 
people  at  the  gate  of  a  church,  waiting  for  admission,  that  they 
might  consecrate  to  the  Author  of  their  being  the  actions  of  the 
day,  and  beg  His  blessing  through  the  merits  of  the  Divine  Victim 
then  about  to  be  offered  up.  A  mingled  feeling  of  shame  and  sor- 
row stole  upon  her  as  she  contrasted  their  humble,  fervent  piety, 
with  the  illusions  of  the  scene  firom  which  she  had  recently  passed, 
and  grace  touched  her  heart  with  such  jwrerful  effect,  that  from  a 
fine,  fashionable  lady,  she  became  a  i    A  and  humble  follower  of 


. 


f. 


48 


LIFE  OF  CATUKKINIE  JS^AXTLVT. 


the  Cross.  Hence  we  find  her  no  more  in  the  salons  of  Paris ;  her 
fntare  home  is  the  dingy  schoolroom,  where  half  by  stealth  she 
contrives  to  assemble  poor  children,  or  the  dismal  garrets  and  half- 
entombed  cellars,  where  the  sick  and  the  destitute  wasted  away 
nncared  for  and  nnknown.  Her  director,  Ber.  Father  Doran,  an 
Irish  Jesuit,  approved  of  her  design  of  devoting  her  life  and  her 
wealth  to  tLe  education  of  the  poor  in  her  native  land. 

To  advance  this  object,  she  tried  to  prevail  on  some  French  Ur- 
Bulines  to  accompany  her  to  Ireland  ;  but  their  superiors  being  an- 
willing  to  allow  them  to  risk  their  lives  in  the  cause,  she  was 
obliged  to  wait  until  some  Irish  ladies  whom  she  bad  induced  to 
make  their  novitiate  at  Dieppe,  were  ready  to  undertake  the  peril- 
ous enterprise  of  restoring  monastic  discipline  in  that  land  of  perse- 
cution. Meanwhile  she  built  in  Cork  a  convent  for  their  recep- 
tion— the  first  erected  in  Ireland  since  the  Reformation. 

Little  did  the  French  Ursulines  who  refused  to  aid  Miss  Nagle 
imagine,  that  a  few  years  later,  when  all  the  convents  of  their  own 
country  wonld  be  abandoned  and  their  inmates  exiled  or  guillo- 
tined, their  Irish  Sisters  would  be  firmly  established  in  the  land 
they  deemed  '  secure  ;  and  the  penal  laws  repealed  or  fallen  mto 
desuetude,  tl  ild  be  able  to  open  their  hearts  and  homes  to 

many  unfortunate  emigries*  especially  those  of  their  own  Order. 

On  their  homeward  journey,  the  Irish  Ursulines  enjoyed  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  Royal  Abbey  of  St.  Denis,  in  which  the  Princess 
Looise  Marie,  daughter  of  Louis  XY.  and  Marie  of  Poland,  was 
then  a  novice.  This  high-born  lady,  who  had  cheerfully  exchanged 
the  gorgeous  robes  of  a  daughter  of  France  for  the  coarse  serge  of 
a  poor  Carmelite,  treated  the  Irish  Religious  with  peculiar  ^  ind- 
ness,  assured  them  of  frequent  remembrance  in  her  prayers,  and 
when  she  learned  the  object  of  their  dangerous  mission,  enthusias- 
tically exclaimed  :  "  Oh  that  I  could  accompany  yon  t    Your  des- 

*  Mmdimes  d«  St.  Jeim  White,  Ste.  H^Idne  de  Kavanagh,  Keatinge,  Bastia, 
Cinqnemara,  d^c.  The  number  of  Irish  names  found  among  the  French  aris- 
tocracy, may  be  partly  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  many  of  the  Irish  who 
•xiied  themselves  with  the  Stuarts,  1689,  never  returned  to  their  native  land. 
Their  descendants  continued  to  share  the  Chateau  St.  Germain  with  the  Scotch 
•nd  Kngliah  exiles,  long  after  the  death  of  Maria  Beatrix,  iu  loat  royal  inm«(«. 


LIFE  OF  CATHKSINE   IIOAULBY. 


4» 


I  of  Paris ;  ber 
by  stealth  she 
arrets  and  half- 
e  wasted  away 
kther  Doran,  an 
ier  life  and  her 
md. 

ome  French  Ur- 
jetiors  being  nn- 
3  cause,  she  waa 

had  indnced  to 
lertake  the  peril- 
lat  land  of  perse" 
it  for  their  recep- 
lation. 

>  aid  Miss  Nagle 
rents  of  their  own 

exiled  or  guillo- 
ished  in  the  land 
Baled  or  fallen  into 
rts  and  homes  to 
their  own  Order. 
8  enjoyed  the  hos- 
hich  the  Princess 
ie  of  Poland,  was 
eerfully  exchanged 

;he  coarse  serge  of 

ith  peculiar  '  ind- 
her  prayers,  and 

mission,  enthusias- 
you  1    Your  des- 

^h,  Keatinge,  Basti*, 
jiong  the  French  arU- 
tany  of  the  Iriah  who 
A  to  their  native  land. 
Irmain  with  the  Scotch 
1  iu  lost  royal  inmaU. 


tiny  is  glorioas  indeed.    Happy  shall  I  be,  if  I  obtain  a  place  at 
your  feet  in  heaven  1" 

This  amiable  princess  was  of  a  singularly  bright  and  happy  dis- 
}>osition.  She  bore  the  rigors  of  her  penitential  life  with  serenity, 
or  rather  with  joy.  "  Cheerfulness,"  she  would  often  say,  "  is  the 
best  gilding  for  the  ronjjh  pill  of  mortification."  In  the  almost  in- 
superable difficulties  of  their  new  home,  the  Irish  religions  were 
animated  by  the  remembrance  of  the  virtues  of  the  royal  Carmelite 
who  had  shown  herself  so  courteous  to  them,  and  so  friendly  to 
their  country. 

In  nil,  Nano  Kagle  foanded  the  Presentation  Order  for  the 
education  of  poor  children  only  ;  but,  though  venerated  as  Found- 
ress by  the  Ursuline  and  Presentation  Nuns  of  Ireland,  she  never 
assumed  the  habit  of  either  Institute.  She  loved  too  well  the  de»- 
olate  homes  of  the  poor  and  sick,  and  the  example  of  Him  whose 
feet  were  wearied  in  seeking  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel, 
to  allow  herself  the  comparative  ease  of  a  cloistered  home.  Or 
rather,  such  was  not  her  vocation. 

Concluding  a  notice  of  this  great  woman,  whom  they  justly  style 
"  the  precnr  <r  of  the  numerous  establishments  for  religious  and 
literary  traiuiug  now  so  extensively  diffused  through  Ireland,"  the 
Christian  Brothers  say : 

!'  Without  detracting  in  the  least  from  the  brilliant  reputation 
of  the  gifted  Felicia  Hemans,  or  the  more  masculine  genius  of  ber 
who  has  penetrated  the  abyss  of  the  heavens  and  trod  the  milky 
way,  or  the  rare  talents  and  practical  wisdom  of  our  own  country- 
woman who  has  written  so  ably  on  the  duties  and  moralities  of 
social  life,  we  venture  to  assert  that  the  records  of  the  three  king- 
doms cannot  produce,  in  ancient  or  modem  times,  a  female  who 
has  achieved  more  for  the  cause  of  education  and  religion,  and 
proved  a  greater  benefactress  to  the  poor,  than  this  lady,  whose 
'  only  monument  is  the  institutions  which  she  raised." 

How  just  is  this  observation  t  For  what  are  the  sublime  achieve- 
ments of  Felicia  Hemans,  Caroline  Herschel,  Mrs.  Somerville,  or 
Mrs.  Hail,  compared  to  the  feat  she  performs  who  rescues  from 
ruin  or  perdition  the  meanest  among  her  fellow-creatures  ?  And 
how  many  of  these  did  Nano  f  Fagle  rescue  ? 

3 


wmmBmsmmmmm 


50 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


Among  the  poor,  in  the  sontheru  districts  of  Cork,  traditions  of 
ISTauo  Nagle  are  not  yet  extinct.  The  aged  crone  will  tell  of  a 
tall,  stately  figure,  wrapped  in  a  long  dark  mantle,  who  glided, 
spectre-like,  from  cellar  to  attic,  to  assist  the  sick.  Her  step  was 
firm,  but  almost  noiseless,  and  she  usually  carried  a  lantern  to  guide 
her  through  the  darkness,  gas  not  having  been  yet  invented,  The 
children  who  met  her  on  these  missions  of  mercy  would  gaze  with 
awe  on  the  mysterious  figure.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  persuade 
them  that  she  was  a  mortal  like  themselves. 

Nano  Kagle  sleeps  among  the  poor  she  loved  so  well ;  a  modest 
tomb  marks  the  sacred  spot  in  which  her  remains  repose. 

A  life-size  portrait  of  this  truly  valiant  woman  may  be  seen  at 
the  celebrated  Ursuline  Convent,  Blackrock,  Cork.  She  is  repre- 
sented seated  in  her  dingy  schoolroom,  surrounded  by  ragged 
children,  whose  eyes  are  fixed  on  leir  benefactress  with  a£fection 
and  veneration.  Though  premati::-cly  old,  her  placid  face  bears 
traces  of  the  beauty  that  charmed  thousands  in  the  gayest  city  of 
Europe.  The  complexion  is  very  {av(,  the  features  soft,  and  the 
mild,  intelligent  blue  eyes  beam  with  maternal  love  on  her  wretched 
pupils.  A  homely  muslin  cap  conceals  the  noble  head,  and  the 
figure  is  almost  hidden  in  the  folds  of  a  large  black  shawl.  The 
portrait  would  indicate  a  woman  of  f-iy  j-five  or  seventy,  though 
the  original  was  only  fifty-six  at  the  time  of  her  death. 

The  new  Orders  had  not  made  much  progress  when  they  received 
n  terrible  shock  in  the  apostasy  of  Dr.  Butler,  Bishop  of  Cork. 
He  had  arranged  to  officiate  at  the  profession  of  an  Ursuline  on 
the  23d  of  January,  1787,  but  instead  of  keeping  his  appointment, 
he  wrote  a  hurried  apology,  and  sent  his  vicar-general  in  his 
ctead.  Next  day  he  was  Lord  Dunboyne.  The  celebrant  at  a 
profession  is  obliged  to  celebrate  Mar,d.  Perhaps  the  unhappy 
man,  whoso  mind  was  fully  made  up  as  to  his  future  course,  shrank 
from  adding  a  sacrilegious  Mass  to  the  catalogue  of  his  crimes. 
There  is  scarcely  any  conscience  so  scared  that  it  has  not  some  ten- 
der spot.  'Nothing  could  exceed  the  grief  this  apostasy  caused ;  and 
when,  later  on,  the  erring  shepherd  was  brought  back  by  a  faith- 
ful nhcep  (his  own  servant),  his  bitter  tears  of  penitence  and  his 
almost  royal  munificence,  were  deemed  but  a  poor  reparation  for 
the  scandal  he  had  given.  ^ 


Lira  OP  CATHERINE  MCAUI.KT. 


61 


,  traditions  of 
will  tell  of  a 
,  Tvho  glided, 
Her  step  was 
intera  to  guide 
avented.  The 
)uld  gaze  with 
jy  to  persuade 

i^ell ;  a  modest 
pose. 

naj-  be  seen  at 
She  is  repre- 
ded  by  ragged 
33  with  affection 
ia«id  face  bears 
e  gayest  city  of 
es  soft,  and  the 
on  her  wretched 
e  head,  and  the 
ick  shawl.     The 
seventy,  though 
3ath. 

len  they  received 
Bishop  of  Cork. 
'  an  Ursuline  ou 
his  appointnieut, 
r-general  in  his 
3  celebrant  at  a 
ps  the  unhappy 
re  course,  shrank 
ae  of  his  crimes, 
las  not  some  tcn- 
itasy  caused ;  and 
back  by  a  faith- 
)enitcnce  and  his 
or  reparation  for 


In  one  sense,  he  was  no  loss  to  the  new  convents.  He  had 
thrown  obstacles  in  Miss  Nagle's  way,  but  he  never  gave  her  any 
assistance  or  encouragement.  Noticing  this.  Very  Rev.  Dominic 
Murphy  says  :*  "Those  who  knew  him  best  were  not  surprised  at 
his  fall.  He  never  gave  any  assistance  to  the  efforts  made  to  pro- 
mote education  in  his  diocese,  though  his  episcopal  station,  no  less 
than  his  imperative  obligition  of  providing  for  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  his  people,  should  have  enlisted  his  wannest  co-operation."  May 
God  have  received  the  repentance  of  this  unfortunate  prelate,  who 
certainly  did  not  satisfy  before  his  fellow-creatures  for  his  sins. 
But  Qod  is  more  merciful  than  man. 

Most  c'  the  particulars  here  recorded,  concerning  the  first 
Orders  established  in  Ireland  for  educational  purposes,  in  modern 
times,  might,  a  few  years  since,  have  been  heard  from  an  eye-wit> 
ness,  Mother  Aloysja  Moylan,  the  first  who  joined  the  Ursulines 
after  their  arrival  in  Cork.  She  had  known  Miss  NaHe  in  France, 
but  being  of  a  delicate  constitution,  her  friends  could  not  for  a 
long  time  be  persuaded  to  permit  her  to  enter  religion.  A  life  of 
seclusion  agreed  better  with  her  than  they  anticipated  ;  being  pro- 
fessed in  1174,  she  survived  that  event  seventy-two  years  I  Her 
brother  Francis.f  called  in  Miss  Nagle's  correspondence  "  The  Abb6 
Moylan,"  was  raised  to  the  See  of  Kerry  in  It 75,  and  translated 
to  that  of  Cork  after  the  secession  of  Dr.  Butler.^  He  was  a  warm 
friend  to  the  new  Orders. 

Though  it  was  not  generally  known  that  the  ladies  who  were 
stealthily  gathering  pupils  in  the  suburbs  of  Cork  were  nuns,  it 
was  often  warmly  debated  whether  their  efforts  ought  not  to  bo 
suppressed.  For  the  reader  will  remember  that  the  laws  which 
made  it  felony  for  the  Irish  Catholic  to  teach  or  to  \cara  weie  still 
unrepealed,  and  that  whether  the  Irish  got  learning  at  home  or 
abroad  they  got  it  illegally.    For  .several  years  the  religious  dared 

*  In  li'iH  "  Memoir  of  Nuao  Nuglo,"  publitbed  in  the  DubKn  Review,  and  in 
a  Keparntb  form. 

t  llur  otlit'  hrotiior,  Qenornl  Stoplion  Moylan,  wns  nide-de-CAinp  to  Washing- 
ton, ouininBiKiur  of  "Moyiun'it  DrHi<oon»,"  &o.,  in  the  Kevoliitlonary  Army. 

X  Dr.  Btitler,  better  k'.nown  oh  Lord  Diinboyne,  i«  lomctiineH  cotit'uunded 
with  liie  nr>meiial<e  and  tontenipornij-,  Moat  Kev.  J«mee  Builer,  Archbishop  of 
Gaehel,  av.tbor  of  Sutler's  C«t«oltliui,  &o. 


"•»• 


l*V 


02 


LIFS  OF  CATHERINE  UCAULET. 


I 


not  nssame  their  distinctive  religious  dress,  and  they  were,  day  and 
nijrlu,  in  preparati(jn  for  martynlom.  The  corporation  tallied  of 
sclzinj^  their  property,  but  enough  could  not  be  fcund  on  the  prem- 
ises to  tempt  their  cupidity.  On  one  occasion,  a  mob  was  actually 
orfcanized  to  accomplish  the  chivalrous  feat  of  setting  a  few  pioua 
ladies,  and  some  orphans  whom  they  sought  to  protect,  adrift  on 
the  world.  But  a  member  of  tho  corporation,  who  bad  humanity 
enough  to  be  ashamed  of  such  work,  dissuaded  his  brethren  from 
molesting  "  a  few  old  women  who  agree  to  tak6  their  tea  together, 
and  pray  a  little  after  their  own  fashion."  He  added  a  very  con- 
clusive argument :  "  If  we  annoy  them  too  much,  they'll  take 
away  their  riches  and  spend  them  elsewhere,  and  this  will  not  serve 
our  trade." 

°  We  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  march  of  intellect,  but  which 
party  gave  greater  evidence  of  common  sense  and  humanity- ^not 
to  speak  of  religious  toleration — the  Orangemen  of  the  last  quarter 
of  the  past  century,  who  refrained  from  molesting  an  institution 
erected  in  defiance  of  existing  laws,  or  the  enlightened  Yankees  of 
Massachusetts,  who,  under  a  Gonstitation  that  guarantees  religions 
toleration,  burned,  iu  1832,  a  convent  which  was  built  without  in- 
fringing on  any  law  ? 

Nano  Nagle,  Mary  Catherine  Dawson,  Aloysia  Ball,  Marianne 
Aikenhead,  and  Catherine  McAuley,  form  the  small  but  illustrious 
baud  of  modern  Irish  foundresses.  Fhysically  and  intellectually, 
tiiesc  five  women  could  hardly  be  surpassed  ;  spiritually,  we  must 
look  for  their  counterparts  in  the  Lives  of  the  Saints.  We  have 
lingered  longer  than  we  intended  over  the  first,  and  we  leave  the 
subject  almost  with  regret.  We  look  at  her  once  more,  iu  the 
bloom  of  youth  and  beauty ;  we  see  her  a  sportive  clild  in  her 
paternal  home  on  the  romantic  banks  of  the  Bluekwater ;  wo 
follow  her  to  sunny  France,  which  she  loved  so  well.  We  hear 
her  charms  sung  by  many  a  poet  in  the  land  where  the  age 
of  the  great  Louis  had  only  Just  terminated.  Brave  generals 
and  astute  statesmen  seek  the  honor  of  her  hand,  and  her  heart 
sucms  to  desire  nothing  higher  than  the  entrancing  delights  of 
Parisian  life.  Yet,  no  sooner  has  God  spoken  one  little  word  in 
her  hearty  than  she  quita  all,  and  chooses  a  life  oomparad  with 


i_ 


»■*>.. 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  HOAULET. 


08 


were,  day  and 
tion  talked  of 
i  on  the  prem- 
b  was  actually 
ig  a  few  pious 
itect,  adrift  on 
had  humanity 
brethren  from 
ir  tea  together, 
led  B  very  con- 
:h,  they'll  take 
is  will  not  servo 

sUect,  bnt  which 
humanity- ^not 
the  last  quarter 
g  an  institution 
:ened  Yankees  of 
.rantees  religious 
built  without  in- 

i  Ball,  Marianne 
nil  but  illustrious 
nd  intellectually, 
iritually,  we  must 
aints.    We  have 
and  we  leave  the 
mce  more,  iu  the 
•tive  cl'ild  in  her 
Blackwater  ;  wo 
>  well.    We  hear 
where  the  age 
Brave  generals 
id,  and  her  heart 
incing  delights  of 
one  little  word  in 
fe  oompurad  with 


which  the  gridiron  of  Lawrence,  or  the  wheel  of  Catherine,  seems 
a  joyous  thing.  For  what  can  be  more  intolerable  to  courtly  re> 
fioement  than  a  Ufa  spent  in  continual  contact  with  the  semi-barba- 
rian poor,  .vhom  ignorance  and  oppression  had  almost  brutalized  ? 
Merely  to  enter  the  cloister  had  not  been  so  much,  when  ladies  of 
noble  and  even  royal  blood  deemed  it  an  honor  to  forsake  all 
things  for  Christ.  •  But  look  at  her,  persevering  day  after  day  for 
thirty-six  years,  in  her  weary,  thankless  toil ;  look  at  her  poor 
garments,  the  meagre  fare,  her  ulcerated  feet  ;*  look  at  her  rink- 
ing  her  life  hourly  in  her  missions  of  charity  ;  hooted  by  the  rabble, 
insnlted  by  the  faction  then  in  power,  living  amid  scenes  from 
which  the  natural  delicacy  of  her  sex,  refined  by  high  breeding, 
must  have  instinctively  shrunk,  and  counting  it  all  ns  little  for 
heaven  and  nothing  for  Qod,  and  yon  may  well  ask  :  "  How  did 
she  do  it?"  Natural  benevolence  never  did  so  much  in  any  one 
instance,  though  it  can  do  a  great  deal.  Only  one  thing  could  ac- 
complish it — Grace  :  the  charity  of  Christ  pressed  her,  and  she 
willingly  became  an  outcast  for  her  brethren. 

*  Uar  ftut  were  found  in  tnoh  a  condition  nftor  death,  thiit  plly^<!oinnl«  ninr- 
velled  how  (die  could  have  maniiged  to  Ktniid  on  tliein ;  and  yet  i.lie  never  spoke 
of  the  Intense  pain  tl'ey  must  have  oauiied  her,  or  even  leHaened  her  laborii  oo 
account  of  it. 


i,^y(i!fwt'..'- 


' 


CHAPTER    III. 

JamcH  McAnlejr,  Esq.— Hiii  zr  '  for  inxtructinjr  oliildren.— Little  Catheriu 
Eleanor  MoAulny.— DomeRtio  nIteroationB. — Death  of  Mr,  MoAnley.— 
Seaponsibility  of  parents.— QliOBtg  in  Stormnnsto^vn  Hoiihs. — Its  ininatea 
remove  to  Duhliti.— Madnme  St.  Oeorge. — Mrs.  McAnley's  curly  training, 
and  its  connequenecs. — Ilcr  judicious  mode  of  governing  children.— 
Cittliurine  on  "giiod  nniniierK." — Dciitli  of  her  mother. — Its  influence  on 
Cuthnriiie.— Tiie  contrust  between  the  deaths  of  tlie  mother  and  daughter.— 
Cutheriiie'a  zeal  for  preparing  ubildran  for  Conflruiotion. 


The  owner  of  Stormanstown  Honse  was  worthy  to  be  the 
father  of  such  a  woman  as  Catherine  McAaley.*  He  was  a  pions 
Catholic,  kind  and  indulgent  in  his  family,  charitable  to  the  poor, 
and  a  gentleman  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word.  Though 
Catherine  was  hardly  seven  when  she  had  the  misfortane  to  lose 
him,  his  virtues  had  made  an  indelible  impression  on  her  tender 
mind,  and  the  remembrance  of  him  kept  alive  in  her  heart  dnriug 
the  many  dark  years  that  followed  his  death,  the  dying  embers  of 
the  faith.  Among  other  pious  practices,  he  used  on  Sundays  and 
holidays  to  collect  all  the  poor  in  the  vicinity  of  Stormanstown, 
and  instruct  them  in  their  religion.  In  those  days  it  wonid  not  be 
easy  to  overrate  the  utility  of  this  laudable  custom.  If  the  instrno- 
tion  of  the  poor  ts  at  all  timas  a  great  work  of  mercy,  what  must 
it  bo  in  those  real  "  dark  ages,"  when  there  were  few  clergy  and 
DO  institutions  to  promote  it  ? 

Little  Catherine  often  witnessed  his  zcalons  discharge  of  this 
self-appointed  but  most  mcritoiioub  duty.  &he  was  a  becutiful, 
gentle  child,  with  soft  blue  eyes  and  golden  bair  ;  cveu  then  she 

•To-tlio  very  cml  of  her  life,  Ciitliorlne  tostiflod  tlio  dpepcHt  vcnoriitlon  for 
her  fiitlii'r's  memory.  On  one  ocoimion,  her  lirotlier-in-luw  wUeii  lier  to 
nipderiilztt  a  liltio  the  ortliogrupliy  of  her  name— tliUH,  MaeauUy.  'How  could  I 
think,"  she  replied,  "of  ipelliug  n.y  n«me  otherwise  than  my  revered  :'i.:her 
•pell  it  I" 


LIFE  OF  CATHERIKK  UCAULEY. 


56 


^Tn;^ 


—Little  Catherine 
Mr,  MoAuley.— 
jnne. — \t»  inmate* 
y'»  curly  training, 
riling  cliildren.— 
— Itn  influence  on 
sr  and  daughter. — 


>rthy  to  be  the 
He  was  a  pioos 
ible  to  the  poor, 
word.  Though 
isfortune  to  lose 
n  on  her  tender 
lier  heart  during 
dying  embers  of 
on  Sundays  and 
f  Stormanstown, 
I  it  would  not  be 
If  the  instruc- 
ercy.  what  must 
1  few  clergy  and 

lischarge  of  this 
was  a  beeutiful, 
e\eu  then  she 

epcHt  vcnoriitlon  for 
ii-luw  AHkod  lier  to 
iul*tf.  'How  could  I 
J  my  revered  :"4.:.her 


evinced  the  germs  of  the  charity  and  amiability  so  characteristic  of 
her  matnrer  years.  Her  disposition  was  very  affectionate,  and  sin- 
gularly  t^nselfish.  A  little  before  her  death  she  wrote  :  "  One  in 
my  position  cannot  think  of  pleasing  herself ;  my  pleasure  must 
consist  in  endeavoring  to  please  all."  But  her  whole  life  was 
guided  by  that  oeautiful  maxun.  Often  she  wocid  follow  hei 
father  to  his  favorite  occupation.  With  wonderment  depicted  on 
her  childish  face,  she  would  listen  to  him  expounding  to  the  poor 
those  beautiful  troths  which  alone  can  sweeten  the  bitterness  of 
poverty.  Young  as  she  then  was,  she  never  could  forget  his  zeal 
and  piety,  and  when  she  lost  him,  veneration  for  his  memory  grew 
with  her  growth  and  strengthened  with  h^r  strength.  Truly,  the 
remembrance  of  their  virtues  is  the  most  precious  inheritance 
parents  can  leave  to  their  children,  whose  immortal  souls  will  one 
day  be  demanded  at  their  hands.  This  legacy,  if  no  other,  was 
the  birth-right  of  Oatherine. 

Mrs.  McAuley  was  a  lady  of  great  personal  attractions,  a  highly 
cultivated  mind,  and  almost  angelic  sweetness  of  disposition. 
Loving  faohionable  society,  which  she  was  well  fitted  to  adorn,  she 
tti^^  ed  with  ardor  in  the  gayeties  of  Dublin.  Like  some  of  the 
gifted  women  of  the  last  century,  whose  beauty  and  amiability 
made  them  idols  in  their  respective  circles,  she  does  not  seem  to 
haVe  been  imbued  with  much  -religious  sentiment.  Her  moral 
character  .ras  irreproachable,  and  her  gentleness  and  kindness 
secured  her  many  warm  friends.  Mr.  McAuIey's  singular  taste  for 
"  vulgar  associations"  was  to  her  "  source  of  much  annoyance ; 
and  when  the  blind,  the  lame,  and  the  destitute,  who  assembled  on 
his  invitation,  withdrew,  the  amiability  which,  under  other  curcum- 
stances,  seemed  part  of  her  nature,  gave  place  to  something  not 
quite  BO  attractive.  "  How  is  this,  sir !"  she  wonld  exclaim ; 
"  must  my  house  become  a  receptacle  for  every  beggar  and  cripple 
in  the  conntry  ?  It  is,  certainly,  very  unsuitable  for  a  gentleman 
in  your  position  to  continue  these  absurdities.  I  don't  know  how 
you  can  employ  yourself  with  these  low,  ignorant  creatures." 

The  fair  miatress  of  Stormanstown  House  was  very  liberal  of 
these  remonstrances  ;  so  much  so,  that  though  she  saw  they  had  oo 
effect,  she  usually  cased  her  mind  by  admiuisteriug  one,  at  leoBt 


rl 


3  ■■ 


m 


60 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  3ICAULET. 


1 


a. 


once  a  week.  Bat  prond  as  Mr.  McAuIey  was  of  bis  nccom'- 
plished  wife,  and  freely  as  he  yeilded  to  her  in  all  things,  lawful  or 
indifferent,  yet,  when  she  sought  to  betray  him  into  a  dereliction  of 
duty  or  principle,  he  qnietly  but  decidedly  showed  her  that  he  was 
master  of  his  own  bouse.  Nor  did  he  think  it  at  ail  "  unsuitable" 
for  a  gentleman  in  any  "  position"  to  devote  some  leisure  hours  to 
the  instruction  of  those  whom  tyranny  of  the  worst  species  had  con- 
signed to  the  most  deplorable  ignorance,  and  whose  immortal  sonls, 
made  in  the  image  of  the  Deity,  were  ransomed  with  the  precious 
blood  of  an  incarnate  Qod.  Catherine .  distinctly  remembered 
thffle  little  altercations,  which  occasionally  disturbed  the  peace  of  a 
family,  otherwise  liring-in  perfect  harmony  ;  and  ch'Id  as  she  was, 
she  could  see  that  her  father,  though  the  quieter  of  the  disputants, 
had  the  best  of  the  argument. 

In  1194,  James  McAuley  passed  to  the  reward  promised  to 
those  •'  who  instruct  many  unto  justice."  Unexpectedly  stricken 
down  in  the  prime  of  manhood,  he  was  not  unprepared  to  meet 
death's  summons.  He  bad  been  a  faithful  steward.  His  time,  his 
talents,  his  wealth,  had,  as  far  as  was  compatible  with  justice  to 
his  own  family,  been  devoted  to  the  poor.  His  genuine  upright- 
ness, his  extraordinary  good  sense,  and  his  unweared  charity,  had 
won  for  him  the  respect  which  virtue  excites  in  friend  and  foe. 
The  poor  mourned  bim  as  a  benefactor  whose  place  in  their  regard 
could  not  easily  be  filled  ;  and  well  they  might,  for  men  like  him 
are  not  common. 

Under  God,  the  virtues  of  Catherine  were  due  to  the  influence 
her  father's  example  exercised  on  her  early  years.  From  him  she 
imbibed  that  devotion  to  the  poor,  that  zeal  for  instructing,  that 
respect  for  the  Catholic  faith  which  continued  with  her  under 
very  adverse  circumstances.  Hence,  also,  sprang  the  zeal  with 
which  she  cautioned  parents  to  train  up  their  children  in  the  way 
in  which  they  should  gu,  and  the  grief  with  which  she  saw  that 
the  majority  of  parents  neglect  this  sacred  duty.  For,  if  a  just 
God  smote  His  high-priest.  Hell,  for  negligence  in  the  training  of 
his  children,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  Ho  will  excuse  those  who 
cxhilit  similar  neglect  under  the  Christian  dispensation.  What 
does  it  signify  to  leave  to  children  immense  wealth,  if  they  are 


»f  his  fltconi' 
igs,  lawful  or 
dcrfliction  of 
r  that  he  was 
"  unsuitable" 
sure  hours  to 
lecies  had  con- 
amortal  souls, 
1  the  precious 
r  remembered 
the  peace  of  a 
lid  as  she  was, 
;hti  disputants, 

I  promised  to 
ctedly  stricken 
pared  to  meet 

His  time,  his 
ffith  justice  to 
jnuine  upright- 
pd  charity,  had 
rricnd  and  foe. 
in  their  regard 

men  like  him 

0  the  Influence 
From  him  she 
ttstructing,  that 
irith  her  under 
the  zeal  with 
rcn  in  the  way 
she  saw  that 
For,  if  a  just 
the  training  of 
.cuse  those  who 
nsatlon.    What 
Ith,  if  thoy  are 


LIFE  OF  CA.TBEBINH  IfOATTLET. 


»7 


destitute  of  the  riches  necessary  to  secure  their  salvation  ?  Of 
what  use  are  raagniflccnt  town  and  country  residences,  if  the  inner 
dwellings  of  their  hearts  be  not  sanctified  by  Qod's  holy  presence  ? 
In  a  word,  what  will  it  profit  them  to  gain  the  whole  world,  if  they 
lose  their  immortal  souls  ?  Did  parents  reflect  on  their  awful 
responsibility,  they  would  strive  to  ornament  the  minds  of  their 
children  without  detriment  to  their  souls  ;  they  would  be  more 
anxious  to  leave  them  the  precious  inheritance  of  a  Christian  eda- 
catioD  than  the  riches  of  Dives.  For  wealth,  without  virtue,  is 
rather  a  curse  than  a  blessing ;  it  only  enables  its  possessor  to 
plunge  more  deeply  into  every  vice,  and  gratify  every  sinful  inclina- 
tion. Far  from  following  the  example  of  Mr.  McAuIey,  some 
parents  not  only  give  their  children  bad  example  at  home,  but  re- 
fuse to  intmst  them  to  those  who  would  teach  them  to  live  on 
earth  in  a  manner  that  will  not  unfit  them  for  heaven  ;  and  who, 
while  they  disdain  not  a  single  art  or  science  which  might  be  useful 
or  agreeable  in  after-life,  never  lose  sight  of  the  one  thing  necessary. 
Mr.  McAuley's  children  were  too  young  to  realize  the  extent  of 
the  loss  they  sustained  by  his  death,  but  his  t  ilowed  partner  felt 
it  in  its  full  force.  Her  pecuniary  affairs  s''  \ .  becoming  unsettled, 
her  friends  advised  her  to  sell  Stormanstuwn  House  and  remove  to 
Dublin.  She  resolved  to  follow  this  counsel,  which,  indeed,  ac- 
corded with  her  inclination.  But,  as  if  to  add  to  her  trouble,  the 
"  House"  was  slow  in  finding  a  purchaser.  A  report  that  it  was 
haunted  having  been  circulated,  people  suddenly  remembered  that 
in  "the  troubled  times"  a  murder  had  been  committed  in  the 
garden ;  the  servants,  of  course,  began  to  hear  voices  and  foot- 
steps in  "  the  witching  hour  of  night,"  and  the  poor  lady,  who 
was  a  little  superstitiously  affected,  hurried,  with  her  little  ones,  to 
the  capital.  Whether  these  appalling  nocturnal  disturbances  arose 
from  natural,  u?inatural,  or  8iip«rnatural  causes,  we  do  not  pretend 
to  say  ;  but  nothing  of  the  kind  tormented  the  inmates  of  the 
ancient  mansion  during  the  life  of  its  late  master.  After  some 
time,  however,  a  tenant  presented  himself  who  boldly  proclaimed 
that  he  cared  not  for  ghosts  or  goblins  ;  and  the  old  homestead 
passed  from  the  McAuleys,  never  to  return  to  their  possession. 
Some  twenty-years  later,  when  Catherine  became  aa  heiress,  her 


"■it: 


68 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


brother  often  urged  her  to  repnrchase  it,  and,  no  doubt,  she  would 
naturally  like  to  do  so,  but  she  invariably  replied  that  she  regareded 
herself  as  steward,  not  as  owner,  of  the  wealth  she  had  just  in- 
herited. 

There  were  two  houses  in  Qneen-street  belonginfj  to  the  widow 
and  her  orphans,  one  of  which  was  repaired  and  fitted  up  for  their 
use.  Mrs.  McAuley  soon  found  that  real  estate,  in  her  hands,  at 
least,  was  a  very  precarious  source  of  revenue ;  and,  through 
some  cause  or  other,  her  income  became  considerably  curtailed 
Among  her  friends  was  a  Mrs.  St.  George,  widow  of  an  officer  in 
the  British  army,  who  was  rery  amiable,  of  a  literary  turn  of 
mind,  and  quite  remarkable  for  the  grace  and  elegance  of  her 
manners.  So  dear  did  she  become  to  the  McAuley  family,  that 
they  were  guided  entirely  by  her  advice.  She  particilarly  at- 
tracted the  children,  and  by  ignoring  Catholicity  as  a  vulgarity, 
she  soon  almost  extinguished  in  their  young  hearts  the  feeble  rays 
of  faith  which  their  mother  had  neglected  to  improve.  She  per 
Buaded  their  weak,  sickly  parent  to  give  them  a  latitude  some- 
what premature  in  these  early  days,  by  allowi-ig  them  to  do  what 
they  pleased  with  reference  to  religion.  The  consequence  was, 
that  Catherine,  who,  through  respect  for  her  father's  memory,  re- 
fused to  attend  Protestant  assemblies,  "grew  up  without  fixed 
religionij  principles,'**  while  James  and  Mary  laid  the  foundation 
of  their  future  Protestantism.  Eleanor  McAnley's  conduct  in 
this  respect  was  but  a  consequence  of  her  own  early  training. 
Like  too  many  at  the  present  time,  those  intrusted  with  her  edu- 
cation considered  religion  a  mere  superfluity.  There  is  much 
excuse  for  her  in  the  fact,  that  there  were  not  any  Catholic  schools 
when  she  was  young,  and  her  opportunities  even  of  hearing  Macs 
were  few  and  far  between.  Nothing  was  omitted  that  could  render 
her  brilliant  and  accomplished,  while  she  was  reared  in  shameful 
ignorance  of  the  dogmas  of  her  faith.  Probably  her  husband 
made  efforts  to  remedy  this,  but  we  fear  he  did  not  find  a  very 
docile  pupil  in  his  beautiful  wife.    Not  deterred  by  the  considera- 

•  We  quote  the  woras  of  V.  R.  Dean  Q»ffney,  who  wm  CMberioe's  oonfeMor 
for  lome  time. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  3CCAULET. 


59 


bt,  she  woald 
she  regareded 
s  bad  just  in- 

to  the  widow 
;d  np  for  their 
her  hands,  at 
and,  through 
ably  curtailed 
of  an  ofiBcer  in 
iterary  turn  of 
ilegance  of  her 
ley  family,  that 
particalarly  at- 
08  a  vulgarity, 
1  the  feeble  rays 
•ove.    She  per 
latitude  some- 
lem  to  do  what 
jnsequence  was, 
er's  memory,  re- 
p  without  fixed 
I  the  foundation 
ley's  conduct  in 
\  early  traiiiing. 
ed  with  her  edu- 
There  is  much 
Catholic  schools 
of  hearing  Mass 
that  could  render 
ared  in  shameful 
bly  her  husband 
1  not  find  a  very 
by  the  considera- 

Catherlne's  oonfewor 


Uon  that  her  own  brother  had  jnst  apostatized,  she  allowed  Mrs. 
St.  George  to  persuade  her  to  place  her  son  :n  a  military  academy. 
Admitted  as  a  Protestant,  for  otherwise  he  could  not  be  received, 
he  profited  '^o  well  by  the  instructions  he  got,  that  be  became,  as 
we  shall  s'lbsequently  see,  most  bigoted  and  intolerant.  Probably 
the  college)  authorities  bestowed  extra  attention  on  this  brand 
snatched  from  the  fires  of  Popery,  and  certainly  their  labor  in  this 
instance  was  not  lost. 

Mrs.  McAuley,  however  careless  about  the  religious  culture  of 
her  children,  was  by  no  means  indifferent  to  their  moral  training. 
In  after-life,  Catherine  often  reverted  to  the  judicious  method  her 
mother  employed  to  correct  their  faults,  but  she  deeply  regretted 
that  it  was  deficient  in  so  essential  an  element  as  instruction  in 
the  religion  which  she  and  they  were  supposed  to  profess.  When 
any  of  them  disobeyed  her,  she  would  say  :  "  Now,  my  child,  yoa 
hi  "6  disobeyed  me,  and  if  I  were  the  only  party  offended  I  should 
say  nothing.  But  in  displeasing  me  you  have  also  displeased  God, 
who  commands  yon  to  honor  your  parents.  I  must  then  punish 
you,  till  you  acknowledge  your  fault  and  ask  God's  forgiveness." 
The  young  delinquent  was  then  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
family  till  the  appointed  reparation  was  made.  She  taught  them 
to  speak  the  truth  on  all  occasions,  to  avoid  the  least  dissimulation, 
and  to  treat  others  as  they  wished  to  be  treated  themselves.  In 
every  thing  pertaining  to  their  moral  and  mental  culture,  not  even 
the  famous  mother  of  the  Gracchi  was  more  strict  and  exacting. 
Like  the  same  noble  pagan,  her  "children  were  her  jewels  ;"  in 
them  she  found  comfort  during  the  weary  years  that  followed  her 
husband's  death.  The  ease  and  elegance  of  manner  which  rendered 
Mary  so  fascinating,  and  which,  when  united  to  piety,  became 
Catherine's  most  potent  auxiliary  in  promoting  the  salvation  of 
souls,  were,  doubtless,  the  result  of  this  early  training.  Hence, 
too,  arose,  perhaps,  the  high  value  which  the  Foundress  of  the 
Order  of  Mercy  placed  on  kind,  engaging  manners.  "A  religious," 
she  would  say,  "  should  be  a  perfect  gentlewoman.  Persons  con- 
secrated to  God  in  an  Order  which  labors  for  the  salvation  of  souls, 
ought  to  be  the  most  attractive  people  in  the  world,  that  their  in* 
flueace  being  boundless  in  their  respective  offices,  they  may  be  so 


I 

s 


60 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


many  magnets  to  attract  all  with  whom  they  conrerse  to  Jesnti 
Christ,  their  Spouse  and  Saviour." 

At  every  period  of  her  life,  Catherine  was  a  scrupulous  observer 
of  those  small,  sweet  courtesies  upon  which  so  much  happiness 
depends.  She  frequently  impressed  on  the  Sisters  tho  importnacc 
of  attending  to  the  manners  of  children,  servants,  and  all  under 
their  care.  Apart  from  their  religious  instruction,  .-lie  considered 
the  formation  of  their  manners  to  be  of  first  consequence.  Indeed, 
she  never  separated  it  from  religion  ;  for  good  manners  were,  in 
her  eyes,  only  the  graqeful  expression  of  charity  ;  and  any  thing 
like  rudeness  was  hateful  to  her,  because  it  was  so  opposed  to  the 
sweetness  of  Jesus.  Her  distinguished  countryman,  Edmund 
Bnrke,  well  says  :  "  Manners  are  of  more  importance  than  laws. 
The  law  can  touch  only  here  and  there,  now  and  then.  But  manners 
are  what  soothe  or  vex,  corrupt  or  purify,  exalt  or  debase,  barba- 
rize or  refine,  by  a  constant,  steady,  uniform  insensible  process,  like 
that  of  the  air  we  breathe.  According  to  then:  quality  they  aid 
morals,  they  supply  them,  or  they  totally  destroy  them."  If  this 
be  only  partially  true,  the  reader  will  admit  the  wisdom  Catherine 
displayed  in  requiring  her  religions  to  pay  so  much  attention  to 
their  own  manners,  and  to  the  manners  of  all  under  their  charge. 

When  Catherine  was  about  elevei)  years  of  age  she  lost  her 
accomplished  mother,  a  loss  of  which  she  never  could  speak  without 
the  deepest  emotion.  Something  mysterious  and  awful  overhung 
this  death-bed,  which,  as  connected  with  her  mother,  she  shuddered 
to  recall.  It  was  the  remorse  of  the  dying  woman  for  what  it  was 
now  too  late  to  remedy.  She  could  not  get  back  her  precious  son, 
whose  salvation  she  had  risked  for  temporal  aggrandizement;  and  her 
yonng  and  lovely  Mary  had  thus  early  become  indifferent  to  the 
faith  of  her  fathers.  Now  death  was  approaching,  it  was  evident 
that  he  could  not  be  cheated  out  of  his  prey,  and  iu  the  dear  light 
of  eternity  which  was  already  beginning  to  duwn  on  the  unfaithful 
Christian,  all  things  appeared  in  their  true  colors.  What  were 
beauty,  and  wealth,  and  talent,  and  admiration  to  her  then  ?  In 
a  few  moments  she  would  be  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God,  to 
answer  to  Him  for  the  three  precious  sonls  He  had  confided  to 
her  care,  to  givp  as  accoant  of  her  stewardship  ;  and  if  shi  pleaded 


ine  to  Jesns 

ilouB  observer 
ich  happiness 
10  importoiice 
lud  all  under 
^lie  considered 
mce.    Indeed, 
nners  were,  in 
,nd  any  thing 
pposed  to  the 
nan,  Edmund 
ce  than  laws. 
But  manners 
debase,  barba- 
le  process,  like 
aality  they  aid 
iem."    If  this 
dom  Catherine 
h  attention  to 
their  charge. 
e  she  lost  her 
I  speak  mthout 
wful  overhung 
,  she  shuddered 
"or  what  it  was 
jr  precious  son, 
sement;  and  her 
iiflTerent  to  the 
,  it  was  evident 
1  the  clear  light 
a  the  unfaithful 
•s.    What  were 
her  then?    In 
seat  of  God,  to 
lad  confided  to 
a  if  ebo  pleaded 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBINE  MC.AULET. 


61 


ignorance,  it  conld  hardly  be  invincible  ignorance.  No  wonder 
that  the  priest,  who  was  stealthily  introduced  into  the  dying  cham- 
ber, found  it  difficult  to  reassure  the  disconsolate  mother ;  and  the 
stupor  of  death  having  compelled  him  to  hasten  in  the  administra- 
tion of  the  sacred  rites,  he  found  that  she  was  gone  ere  any  ar- 
rangements could  be  effected  regarding  the  children  still  with  her. 
This  was  the  darkest  spot  in  Catherine's  retentive  memory.  When 
asked  the  full  particulars  of  this  terrible  scene,  she  appeared  too 
distressed  to  be  able  to  speak  ;  and  when  the  Sisters  perceived  it 
caused  her  such  bitter  emotion,  they  refrained  from  makiag  any 
farther  allusion  to  it. 

It  was,  perhaps,  this  death-«cene  that  imprinted  on  Catherine 
an  intense  fear  of  death,  or  rather  of  God,  who  can  make  the  hour 
of  death  His  hour  of  retribution,  even  when  He  pardons  the  guilt 
of  the  sins  He  panishes  ;  and  the  result  of  this  filial  fear  was  the 
sinless  life,  which  the  venerable  Archdeacon  of  Limerick  considers 
more  surprising  than  all  the  great  works  she  effecter"  for  the  glory 
of  God. 

What  a  contrast  between  the  death  of  the  moth*"-  u.^d  the  death 
of  the  daughter  I  The  one  looks  back  on  a  life  of  worldliness  and 
neglect  of  the  first  duty  of  a  Catholic  mother,  and  already  seems 
to  realize  that  "it  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
living  God,"  uncertain  whether  He  will  receive  her  late,  but  bitter 
repentance :  the  other,  who  had  spent  her  life  in  preparing  for 
her  last  passage,  is  surprised  to  find  its  approach  so  sweet  and 
gentle,  and  when  asked  whether  she  still  feared  it,  answers,  almost 
with  her  last  breath  :  "  Oh,  if  I  knew  death  could  be  so  sweet,  I  had 
never  feared  it  so  much." 

Catherine  was  always  assiduous  in  assisting  the  dying.  In  re- 
citing the  prayers  for  a  soul  departing,  she  was  greatly  consoled 
by  these  words  :  "  For  tliQugh  she  si.med,  she  retained  a  true 
faith  in  thee.  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;"  and  slio  was  ever 
most  grateful  to  God  that  if  her  mother  neglected  to  practise  the 
Catholic  religion,  she  always  resisted  the  sophistries  of  those  who 
would  make  her  renounce  it.  She  was  never  weaiy  of  impressing 
those  whom  she  instructed,  with  the  general  rule :  "  As  we  live, 
BO  shall  we  die."    Did  our  destiny  rest  solely  with  God,  it  would 


■■ 


w 


«■ 


62 


LIFK  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


1 


Burelj  be  a  happy  one  :  did  it  rest  with  our  enemy,  it  would  surely 
be  a  miserable  one.  But  it  rests  partly  with  ourselves.  "  He 
that  made  you  without  your  concurrence,  will  not  save  you  without 
your  co-operation."  The  sure  road  to  a  happy  death  is  a  holy  life. 
"  Live  in  such  a  manner  that  death,  however  sudden,  may  not  find 
you  unprovided."  Then  will  God,  who  is  our  first  beginning, 
graciously  become  our  last  end. 

Mother  Mary  V.  Hartnett,  in  her  memoir  of  Catherine,*  says, 
that  when  quite  a  child,  Catherine  received  Confirmation  in  Arran 
Quay  Church  ;  but  wo  do  not  find  this  circumstance  recorded  else- 
where. Most  Rev.  Dr.  Troy  might,  in  consequence  of  the  dangers 
with  which  she  was  surrounded,  overlook  her  youth  and  want  of 
instruction,  and  administer  the  Sacrament  as  a  preservative  ;  and 
certamly  nothing  less  than  a  powerful  grace  could,  in  the  temptations 
and  trials  of  after  years,  preserve  in  her  that  love  of  the  Catholic 
faith  which  she  never  lost.  Certain  it  is,  that  to  the  end  of  her 
life  she  was  most  solicitous  to  have  children  well  prepared  and 
instructed  for  Confirmation,  and  she  even  inserted  in  her  Kule  a 
claufo  to  that  effect ;  perhaps  in  gratitude  for  the  unmense  graces 
of  which  it  had  been  the  medium  in  her  own  case. 

Her  intense  appreciation  of  the  gift  of  faith  made  her  prize 
the  glorious  Sacrament  whose  office  it  is  to  rouse  and  fortify  that 
faUh  in  the  Christian  heart.  She  would  detail  its  effects  on  the 
ApostUi^.  <.,outra8ting  the  craven  fear  which,  before  the  descent  of 


*  It  it  scsuM  to  any  of  onr  ronden  that  we  enter  too  much  into  detail,  or 
record  whatgeems  to  them  of  li;Mo  importance,  they  will  excuse  us  when  they 
remember  that  there  are  thouauiuls  of  readers,  and  will  probably  yet  be  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  in  the  Order  of  Mercy  alone,  with  whom  nothing  concerning 
the  Foundress  can  be  considered  too  trivial  for  record.  But,  as  we  have  written 
this  work  not  for  religious  alone,  but  for  persons  wUo  live  in  the  world,  and  as 
Catherine  McAuley  ]ia8»ed  forty  years  of  her  life  in  the  world,  and  in  society, 
we  have,  in  order  that  the  work  may  do  more  good  by  having  mnoh  general 
interest,  related  many  things  which  we  would  suppress  if  we  wrote  for  religions 
alone.  We  desire  that  many  who  would  not  read  other  pious  biographies,  may 
be  attracted  to  read  this,  for  we  feel  certain  that  no  one  can  bo  brought  into 
ooniniuuion  with  the  sweet  and  gentle  being  we  have  so  imperfectly  portrayed, 
without  becoming  bettor  and  holier,  for  Mother  McAulcy  remains  after  death 

what  shb  "■  o  i«i  lifd— an  apostle  and  an  evangelist ;  "  an  apostle  bringing  soala  h> 

Coi'iat— an  9vangelist  ^Ainting  Christ  to  men." 


1 


bM* 


it  woold  Barely 
reelves.  "  He 
ve  you  without 
b  is  a  holy  life. 
I,  may  not  find 
irst  beginning, 

itherine,*  says, 
ation  in  Arran 

recorded  else- 
of  the  dangers 
th  and  want  of 
servatire  ;  and 
the  temptations 
»f  the  Catholic 
the  end  of  her 
1  prepared  and 

in  her  Bale  a 
immense  graces 

made  her  prize 

and  fortify  that 

I  effeots  on  the 

the  descent  of 


ich  into  detail,  or 
ease  us  whon  they 
ibably  yet  be  hun- 
lothiiig  concerning 
as  we  have  written 
the  world,  and  as 
Id,  and  in  society, 
Ting  ninoh  general 
wrote  for  religions 
H  biographies,  may 
[1  be  brought  into 
)erlectly  portrayed, 
imnins  after  death 
le  bringing  soak  tt 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


68 


the  Holy  Ghost,  made  them  deny  their  Lord  or  fly  fh)m  Him,  with 
the  glorious  courage  with  which,  after  that  event,  they  preached 
Christ  -crucified,  and  rejoiced  in  being  found  worthy  to  suffer  for 
His  nam( .  She  would  expatiate  on  the  long  and  fervent  prepara- 
tion of  tl  e  Aposties,  and  even  the  Immaculate  Mother  of  God, 
made  for  the  reception  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  impressing  on  the 
minds  of  her  bearers,  that  as  Confirmation  can  be  received  sacra- 
mentally  only  once,  they  should  not  only  prepare  by  a  good  con- 
fession, but  also  try  in  some  manner  to  imitate  the  solitude  and 
prayer  of  the  first  receivers  of  the  Holy  Spurit ;  nor  would  she  fail 
to  suggest  the  dreadful  consequences  of  an  unworthy  participation 
of  this  great  Sacrament, — putting  the  terrible  alternative  before 
the  little  ones  in  language  not  unlike  that  used  in  the  simple  strain 
of  a  "Sister  Poet:" 

"Bat  would  it  not  be  over-aad. 

If,  by  some  hidden  sin, 
I  missed  the  sevenfold  tide  of  grao* 

The  Holy  Qho«t  will  bring  ! 
And  if  the  sign,  the  awful  sign, 

Dpon  my  soul  should  be 
A  mark  to  bring  God's  judgment  down 

With  surer  stroke  on  me  1" 


1 


wm^m^mm 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Surgeon  Conwny.— Catherine  nnd  Mnry  rcmovad  from  all  r.itliollo  ii>fliienee.— 
The  two  Cnthedrnls  of  Dublin.— Ainiiihility  of  Ciithcriiio. — ^Slie  cs^.ll^  to  write 
Latin  exercisoii.— The  pedagogue.— Cutlierine'n  religious  difflcuhicH.— Hei 
esteem  for  hor  Protestant  friends.— Her  Uicological  and  lilstorical  studios, 
— Surgeon  Conway's  financial  reverse. — Catlierine's  cheerfulness  undei 
affliction.— Slie  is  adopted  by  the  wealthy  owner  of  Coolock  Uouso. — Dean 
Lub6. — Very  Rev.  Dr.  Betagb. 

AFTER  Mrs.  McAuley's  death,  her  children,  now  orphans  indeed, 
were  placed  under  the  care  of  their  nearest  friend,  Surgeon 
Conway,'"  a  relative  of  their  mother's.  He  had  them  removed  to 
his  own  house,  and  undertook  the  responsibility  of  their  education 
In  this  gentleman  they  found  a  kind  father  ;  he  treated  them  as 
his  own  children,  and  Catherine  at  least  could  never  forget  his  con- 
siderate kindness.  Had  he  not  thus  given  her  a  home,  his  own 
child  and  grandchildren  had  perhaps  wanted  one,  as  we  shall  see 
in  the  sequel,  so  true  is  it  that  even  in  this  world  charity  seldom 
loses  its  reward. 

Unfortunately,  pecuniary  embarrassments  soon  obliged  this  gen- 
tleman to  relinquish  the  responsibility,  and  Mr.  Armstrong,  a  con- 
nection of  Mrs.  McAuley's,  took  compassion  on  the  poor  little  ones, 
and  brought  them  to  his  own  house.  Their  projiorty  was  sold,  and 
the  proceeds  vested  for  their  use,  in  the  Apothecaries'  Hall,  Mary- 
street,  Dublin,  with  which  Mr.  Armstrong  wns  connected.  This 
gentleman  was  a  rigid  Protestant.  It  would  be  considered  a 
vulgarity  and  a  species  of  disloyalty  to  mention  Cittholiciiy  in  his 
fashionable  and  well-regulated  mansion.  Had  not  Catlicrine  been 
early  familiarized  with  the  persecuted  creed  of  her  ancestors,  she 
might  have  reached  maturity  without  becoming  nware  tliat  it  was 
still  professed  by  the  great  mnjority  of  her  coimtry  people,  or  even 
that  it  exi'jtcd  in  her  nalivd  land,  so  skilfully  did  her  guardian  keep 
his  wards  aloof  from  every  thing  calculated  to  remind  tliem  of  the 


•Soe  "Momoir  of  Mother  MoAulcy,"  by  Sister  Miiry  V.  Hartnoll.  John  F. 
Fowler,  Dublin  ;  18&1.  AIjo,  "  Siitara  of  Merey,"  in  "  Sketches  of  IrUb  Nud- 
Bwiti,"  by  Vtry  Rtr.  D«an  Murpby.    Jamei  Duffy,  Dublla }  1860. 


1 


.1 


LIFE  OF  OATHERIKE  MCAULEY. 


65 


olic  ii>fltience.— 
le  cr'«i\  to  write 
lifflciiltiest.— Ilei 
istoriciil  Htudios, 
erf'iiliiCB8  uniloi 
k  Uouso. — Dean 


rphar.s  indeed, 
riend,  Surgeon 
m  removed  to 
heir  education 
cated  them  as 
forget  his  con- 
home,  his  own 
as  we  shall  see 
charity  seldom 

iliged  this  gen- 
nstrong,  a  con- 
loor  little  ones, 
y  was  sold,  and 
's'  Hall,  Mavy- 
nnected.  This 
)  considered  a 
tholiiMiy  in  his 
Datlicrine  been 

ancestors,  she 
ire  tlmt  it  was 
Dcople,  or  even 

guardian  keep 
lid  them  of  tlio 

{itrtnoll.  Jolin  F. 
uhca  ur  IrUh  Nua- 
S63. 


faith  of  their  parents.  She  was  not  acqnainted  with  a  single  Cath- 
olic, and  she  might  have  walked  through  the  city  without  recog- 
nizing a  Catholic  church.  The  sweet  tones  of  the  Mass  or  Vesper 
bell  never  fell  on  her  ears  ;  the  glorious  Cathedral,  with  "  its  silent 
finger  pointing  np  to  heaven,"  never  gladdened  her  eyes.  In  those 
days  bells  and  steeples  were  allowed  only  in  connection  with  the 
"  Church  by  law  .established."  The  Catholic  chapels  were  in  the 
most  obscure  parts ;  nor  dare  they  venture  any  ornament,  save  the 
modest  cross,  the  beacon  of  hope  to  fallen  man.  Of  the  two 
Cathedrals*  of  Dublin,  neither  was  in  the  possession  of  the  reli- 
gion that  raised  it.  Near  St.  Patrick's  she  might  have  seen  the 
well  in  which  the  great  apostle  baptized  a  native  prince,  and  the 
cave  in  which  he  said  Mass  ;  but  on  entering  that  ancient  fane,  she 
would  at  once  perceive  that  the  unspotted  Sacrifice  was  no  longer.' 
offered  there,  thoqgh  the  grim-looking  Irish  Saints,  that  refuse  to 
come  out  of  their  niches,  are  not  the  only  tokens  the  old  Cathedral 
bears  of  the  religion  which  faithful  generations  practised  within  its 
walls  for  ten  or  eleven  centuries.* 

Although  Catherine  could  not  be  induced  by  threats  or  promises 
to  join  in  Protestant  worship,  she  soon  endeared  herself  to  every 
member  of  the  surgeon's  family.  Her  unvarying  kindness  and 
gentleness,  her  efforts  to  promote  the  happiness  of  others,  and  her 
exquisite  considerateness,  could  not  but  win  affection  and  esteem. 
She  was,  indeed,  a  creature  "  made  to  be  loved."  Mary,  who,  like 
her  mother,  was  of  a  most  amiable  disposition,  was  fond  of  dress 
and  amusement,  but  Catherine  never  cared  for  these  things.    The 

*  Dnhlin  is  aingiilar  in  posaostinf;  two  Cuthodrali.  St,  Patrick's  wns  used  in 
time  of  pence,  mid  Cliriat  Cliurcli,  without  tlio  wulls,  in  time  of  war.  'Die 
latter  hnii  obtained  a  melancholy  celebrity.  From  its  pulpit  the  doctrines  of 
the  Reformation  were  first  promulgntod  in  Ireland,  the  preacher  being  George 
Brown,  nn  English  npostnte  friar.  Hero,  too,  he  outraged  popular  feeling  by 
breaking  that  time-honorcd  crozior  with  which  tradition  assorted  tlmt  bt. 
Piitriok  diuvu  ;'.:->  optilcs  out  of  Ireland,  a  relio  known  by  the  beautiful  name 
of  "The  Stuflf  of  Jos  is"  (Baoulnm  Christl). 

In  St.  Puti'ioli's  linn>nguod  tliat  wittieht  and  most  eooentrio  of  Irishmen,  Dean 
Swift.  Ill  the  densely  pupulutud  districts  nonr  tlie  Cathudral,  ho  is  slill  culled, 
by  way  of  eminence,  "  Tlie  Donn  ;"  and  the  doscendunts  of  the  poor  people, 
whose  liberties  ho  did  not  a  Utile  to  restore,  delight  in  maintaining  that  b« 
died  »  Catholic.    Cutliorine'a  father  might  have  seen  and  known  him. 


% 

i 


^^  -A..  ■~-^.       I  |«»i<Mi.'J'|J!W»J|j»»(< 


66 


LIFE  OF  CATHBEINK  MOAULBY. 


greatest  trouble  of  her  chfldhood  arose  from  the  pain  she  once  nn- 
consciously  infflicted  on  her  sister,  by  inadvertently  mentioning  to 
her  mother  some  fault  of  pride  that  haughty  little  lady  had  com- 
mitted. Mrs.  McAuley,  having  investigated  the  matter,  judg*.^ 
this  fault  so  serious  that,  in  punishment  of  it,  she  locked  Mary  in 
a  dark  room,  in  which,  by  some  ingenious  contrivance,  flamen  were 
represented,  to  give  the  fair  prisoner  some  idea  of  the  flames  to 
which  pride  may  conduct  handsome  people  who  will  not  be  good. 
Poor  Catherine  was  inconsolable.  She  followed  the  poor  child 
through  the  scene  of  terror  and  disgrace,  hovering  round  her  like 
a  guardian  spirit,  and  yet  ashamed,  because  of  what  she  deemed 
her  own  unkindness,  to  look  her  sister  in  the  face. 

James,  before  he  improved  into  the  precise  gentleman  he  after- 
wards became,  was  a  wild,  reckless  youth.  Besides  his  English  and 
mathematical  studies,  he  began  Latin  very  young,  as  is  customary 
in  Ireland.  But  having  a  propensity  for  play  in  a  higher  degree 
than  most  other  boys,  his  Horace  generally  remained  unmolested 
in  his  satchel,  his  translation  wa»  forgotten,  and  his  exercise  un- 
written. The  pedagogues  of  the  olden  times,  however,  were  not 
men  to  be  trifled  with.  They  were  not  accustomed  to  spoil  the 
child  by  sparing  the  rod  ;  hence  poor  James  often  fell  in  for  very 
impolite  glances  of  his  master's  awful  eye,  and  what  he  deemed 
still  more  disagreeable,  an  unmannerly  application  of  the  same 
gentleman's  ferule.  Under  such  unquestionably  distressing  circum- 
stances he  would  apply  to  his  sweet  sister  for  consolation,  which 
he  invariably  received,  with  a  friendly  promise  of  saving  him  from 
similar  indignities  in  future  by  interfupting  his  play  when  it  was 
time  to  study.  But  the  thoughtless  boy  was  always  interrupted 
in  vain  ;  before  evening  came,  the  wounds  of  the  morning,  M  -ot 
entirely  healed,  were  entirely  forgotten,  and  he  preferred  risking 
the  dreadful  consequences  he  knew  to  be  inevitable,  to  subtracting 
ten  minutes  from  his  favorite  diversions.  Catherine  sometimes 
wept  in  the  evening  at  the  thought  of  the  cnstigation  to  be  in- 
flicted on  her  graceless  brother  in  the  morning ;  and  though  he 
generally  arrived  home  with  the  marks  of  martyrdom  ubout  him, 
classics  and  the  rod  had  no  place  in  his  mind  till  .e  dreadful 
morning  came  agoin.    She  wouid  coax  and  entreat,  she  even 


1  she  once  an- 
mentioning  to 
ady  had  com- 
latter,  jndg'^d 
eked  Mary  ia 
le,  flamen  ^^ero 
the  flames  to 
not  bo  good, 
he  poor  child 
round  her  like 
it  she  deemed 

leman  he  after- 
iiis  English  and 
B  is  customary 
i  higher  degree 
led  unmolested 
lis  exercise  nn- 
rever,  were  not 
ed  to  spoil  the 
fell  in  for  very 
hat  ho  deemed 
of  the  same 
tressing  circum- 
isolation,  which 
aving  him  from 
ay  when  it  was 
ays  interrupted 
morning,  Vi    i)t 
referred  risking 

to  subtracting 
irino  soinetimos 
Ration  to  be  in* 

and  though  ho 
lorn  ubout  him, 
till  .e  dreadful 
trcut,  she  eren 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


offered  to  bear  him  company  at  the  dull  work,  and  sometimes 
wrote  the  exercises  herself,  to  gire  him  an  example,  a  step  which 
met  with  his  unqualified  approbation.  But  even  this  was  not  a 
specific.  Though  naturally  acute  and  talented,  she  could  not  write 
Latin  exercises  by  mere  inspiration,  and  the  Tcrbs  and  declensions 
of  that  beautiful  language  were  not  only  Latin  but  Greek  to  her, 
as  James  learned  to  his  cost.  For,  one  day  having  gathered  ap 
the  result  of  her'  labors,  he  strode  to  school  with  a  firm  and  inde* 
pendent  step,  and  on  being  asked  for  his  exercises  showed  up  hers. 
The  teacher,  who  soon  saw  that  they  were  not  his  pupil's  writing, 
dissembled  this,  and  punished  him  for  her  mistakes  as  if  they  had 
been  his  own. 

From  childhood  Catherine  had  not  received  any  religions  in- 
struction, but  the  veneration  in  which  she  held  her  father  excited 
her  to  love  the  faith  he  gloried  in  professing.  She  clung  to  the 
very  name  of  Catholic  with  a  strange  tenacity,  thongb,  circum- 
stanced as  she  was,  it  may  be  regarded  as  little  short  of  miraculous 
that  any  Catholic  feeling  remained  in  her.  Serious  and  acute 
beyond  her  years,  despising  the  frivolities  of  the  world,  and  caring 
little  even  for  its  harmless  amusements,  the  state  of  her  soul  was 
often  a  subject  of  deep  uneasiness  to  her.  She  was  not  a  Protest- 
ant, nor  could  she  with  propriety  be  called  a  Catholic.  She  care- 
fully practised  the  moral  counsels  of  her  beloved  mother,  but  she  felt 
that  this  was  not  enough.  Qood  works  must  be  enlivened  by  faith 
that  workcth  by  charity.  As  she  advanced  in  age  she  grew  daily 
more  alive  to  the  insecurity  of  her  spiritual  position.  When  she 
heard  the  Catholic  faith  attacked  she  was  obliged  to  be  silcut, 
for  she  could  not  give  reasons  for  the  hope  that  lingered  in  her. 
Her  sister  and  brother  made  no  difficulty  of  adopting  their  guardi- 
an's Ci'eed,  while  she  was  out  of  harmony  with  all  her  friends. 
Many  a  time  such  questions- as  the  following  presented  themselves 
to  her  mind  :  "  What,  if  after  all,  the  surgeon's  religion  is  the 
true  one  ?  Am  I,  who  scarcely  know  any  thing  of  religion,  a  better 
judge  of  right  and  wrong  than  he  ?  Why  du  I  not  embrace  bis 
creed,  and  put  an  end  to  my  own  unhappinoss  ?  There  would  then 
be  no  disagreement  between  my  friends  and  myself,  while  now  I 
grieve  them  and  torment  myself." 


]i 


11 


£' 


68 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Her  friends,  from  whom  her  aneasiness  coald  not  be  concealed, 
Bonght  adroitly  to  work  upon  her  feelings,  and  indnce  her  to  attend 
some  Protestant  place  of  worship,  but  this  she  firmly  declared  she 
would  never  do  till  she  was  couTiDced  of  the  trath  of  the  Protestant 
religion. 

One  thing  which  woald  naturally  hare  much  influence  in  attach- 
ing her  to  the  Protestant  persuasion  was,  the  high  moral  virtue  she 
saw  practised  by  her  Protestant  friends.  There  was  not  one  of 
them  whom  she  did  not  esteem.  She  had  found  them  generous, 
warm-hearted,  and  sympathizing,  and  she  ever  approri^ted  them 
as  persons  of  sterling  worth,  whose  bigotry  arose  liom  misander- 
Btanding  and  injudicious  reading,  rather  than  from  any  desire  to 
insult  or  injure  those  whom  they  regarded  as  scarcely  better  than 
pagans.  Not  one  of  them  seemed  capable  of  an  unkind  act ;  and 
if  there  were  Protestants  of  an  opposite  character,  such  were  not 
among  the  associates  of  Catherine  McAuiey.  As  St.  Gregory, 
struck  with  the  beauty  and  goodness  expressed  in  the  faur  faces  of 
the  Saxon  youths  he  saw  exposed  in  the  Roman  slave-market,  ex- 
claimed, "  They  would  not  be  Angles  but  Angels,  if  they  knew 
the  true  God  ;"  so  Catherine,  in  a  similar  spirit,  often  said  that 
nothing  but  tiie  true  faith  seemed  wanting  to  tlie  perfection  of 
her  early  friends.  However,  it  is  hot  right  to  add,  that  she  was 
quite  ingenious  in  observing  and  magnifying  the  good  qualities  of 
all  with  whom  she  came  in  contact ;  this  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
beautiful  point  of  her  very  beautiful  character. 

Prevented  from  consulting  any  Catholic  priest,  for  on  this  point 
her  guardian  was  inflexible,  she  resolved  to  strive  by  prayer  and 
study  to  And  out  the  right  way.  Her  powerful  mind  told  her  that 
every  sect  could  not  indeed  bo  the  Gliurch  of  Christ,  which  her 
Bible  described  as  one.  Naturally  studious,  she  carefully  perused 
tlie  works  of  eminent  Protestant  divines,  with  which  her  present 
home  was  well  stocked.  If  she  asked,  with  the  sable  eunuch  of 
Queen  Candace,  "  How  can  I  understand  what  I  read  unless  some 
one  show  me  ?"  her  zealous  guardian,  who  was  no  mean  proficient 
in  these  high  studies,  was  instantly  at  her  side  to  volunteer  his 
explanations ;  and  she  soemud,  as  she  afterwards  said,  to  be  on  the 
road  to  Protestantism.     But  conviction  would  not  come,  for  hers 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBINE  HCA1TLET. 


69 


be  concealed, 

her  to  attend 

J  declared  she 

the  Protestant 

!nce  in  attach- 
oral  virtoe  she 
as  not  one  of 
hem  generous, 
jreriated  them 
lom  misunder- 
1  any  desire  to 
ily  better  than 
akind  act ;  and 
each  were  not 
.8  St.  Gregory, 
;he  fair  faces  of 
ave-market,  ex- 
,  if  they  knew 
jften  said  that 
|o  perfection  of 
Id,  that  she  was 
9od  qualities  of 


haps. 


the  most 


'or  on  this  point 
3  by  prayer  and 
lid  told  her  that 
irist,  which  her 
sarefuUy  perused 
ich  her  present 
sable  eunuch  of 
read  nnless  some 
mean  proficient 
to  volunteer  hifl 
lid,  to  be  on  the 
come,  for  hers 


was  not  a  mind  to  be  nltimately  duped  by  the  specions  logic  of 
error.  The  Apostles  had  a  dirine  mission  :  which  of  the  so-called 
reformers  could  lay  claim  to  the  same  ?  To  be  sure,  they  did  not 
pretend  to  establish,  they  merely  reformed  ;  bat  what  reforma- 
tion could  that  Ghnrch  require  with  which  Christ  promised  to  re- 
main till  the  consummation  of  the  world  ?  Individuals  may  err  in 
any  position,  for  men  arc  not  angels,  but  it  seemed  to  her  like 
blasphemy  to  assert  that  the  gates  of  hell  could  prevail  against 
the  whole  Chnrch  in  spite  of  the  solemn  promises  of  Jesus  Christ. 
She  was  told  that  many  things  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Catholic 
Church  were  hard  to  be  believed  ;  bat  is  it  not  precisely  herein  that 
the  merit  of  faith  consists  7  If  every  article  were  so  palpable  as  to 
admit  of  mathematical  demonstration,  there  conld  be  no  liberty 
of  rejection,  and  consequently  no  merit  for  reception.  We  do  not 
call  it  tiaith  to  believe  that  the  sun  gives  light  and  heat,  for  this  it 
would  be  madness  to  deny.  Whatever  comes  to  her  on  the  autho- 
rity of  Christ,  speaking  through  His  Church,  she  is  ready  to  believe, 
no  matter  how  repugnant  it  may  appear  to  natural  reason.  Allud- 
ing to  her  struggles  at  this  period,  her  learned  and  pious  friend, 
Dean  Gaffney,*  writes  :  "  The  more  she  read,  for  she  had  a  strong 
and  vigorous  understanding,  the  more  she  thought  and  studied, 
the  stronger  did  her  doubts  become.  The  earthly  and  interested 
motives  in  which  Protestantism  had  its  origin  ;  the  violence,  con- 
tradictions, and  mutual  dissensions  of  its  aathors  ;  the  want  of 
those  salutary  ordinances  which  her  own  heart  told  her  were 
necessary  for  her  spiritual  improvement,  demonstrated  most  con- 
vincingly that  the  spirit  which  produced  the  so-called  Reformation, 
and  which  animated  the  first  reformers,  could  not  have  been  the 
Spirit  of  God.  Whatever  inclination  she  had  to  bpcomn  a  Pro- 
testant utterly  died  away  within  her  during  the  progress  of  in- 
quiry." 

Catherine's  knowledge  of  iiistory,  a  stady*in  which  she  delighted, 
was  a  powerful  auxiliary  in  keeping  her  in  the  fold  from  which  she 
was  in  such  danger  of  wandering.  Certainly,  if  a  tree  is  to  be 
judged  by  its  fraits,  the  Reformation  had  produced  any  thing  bat 


•  8k«toh  of  th«  Ltft  of  Oktherine  MoAuley.    Dublia  Saviaw,  1647. 


'1 


70 


LIFE  OF  CATHERHTBi  MCAULET. 


desirable  fruits  in  the  British  empire.  In  indiridnals  it  was  isome- 
time  eren  less  fortunate.  Take,  as  an  instance,  the  very  man  who 
bad  most  to  do  with  its  introduction.  Look  at  Henry  VIII.  as  a 
Catholic.  Brave,  polite,  handsome,  and  accomplished,  the  friend 
of  More,  fisher,  and  Erasmns,  renowned  through  Europe  for  his 
learning,  he  wins  from  the  highest  earthly  tribunal  a  title,*  of  which 
the  deepest  theologian  might  be  proud.  If  three  queens  once  knelt 
at  his  feet  to  implore  clemency  for  the  unfortunate  apprentices, 
they  did  not  at  least  rise  without  obtaining  what  they  sought.  If 
he  had  strong  passions  (and  who  can  deny  that  ?),  he  could  be 
controlled  by  some  means,  or  combination  of  means,  natural  or 
Bdpematural.  But  look  at  him  after  his  secession  from  Rome,  and 
what  human  being  can  read  his  history  without  feeling  that  hu- 
manity and  Christianity  are  equally  disgraced  in  thb  "  Royal  Blue- 
beard ?"  Rude,  hard-hearted,  and  unpitying — obstinate,  despotic, 
and  revengeful — he  spurns  the  noblest  woman  of  her  age,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Isabella  the  Catholic,  when,  for  sake  of  her  unhappy  child, 
she  casts  herself  at  the  tyrant's  feet  to  ask  only  justice.  Well  did 
he  know  that  it  was  no  vulgar  ambitiou  that  spurred  on  Katharine 
of  Aragon  to  this  extraordinary  humiliation.  Well  did  he  know, 
without  hearing  it  from  her  hallowed  lips,  that  she  "  would  rather 
be  a  poor  beggar,  with  a  good  conscience,  than  queen  of  the 
universe  and  at  enmity  with  God."  But  his  heart  was  callous  and 
his  conscience  seared  ;  the  pure  devotion  of  this  exalted  being  was 
lost  upon  him.  The  pleading  blue  eye  of  the  frail  young  Catherine 
Howard,  and  the  thin  gray  locks  of  the  rigidly  virtuous  mother 
of  Cardinal  Pole,  the  butchered  Margaret  of  Salisbury,  were  equally 
powerless  to  move  his  stony  heart  to  pity.  As  a  Catholic,  be  com- 
pares favorably  enough  with  many  a  prince  before  and  after  his 
time,  but  as  severed  and  excommunicated  from  the  Catholic  Church, 
he  displays  himself  a  monster,  a  compound  of  beast  and  demon, 
from  whom  all  things  Christian  and  human  have  well-nigh  departed, 
whose  very  presence  dellled  our  planet,  and  whose  memory  makes 
ns  shudder.  The  study  of  his  history  aione,  painful  as  it  must 
ever  be,  even  to  fallen  nature,  has  brought  many  a  one  to  the  true 


•  "Doftndtr  of  the  Faith." 


-  — -^-  -in 


J_ 


TJFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MOAULXT. 


71 


it  was  some" 
ery  man  who 
Y  VIII.  as  a 
d,  the  friend 
:arope  for  his 
tie,*  of  which 
ens  once  knelt 
B  apprentices, 
ij  sought.    If 
,  he  could  be 
ns,  natural  or 
om  Kome,  and 
eeling  that  hu- 
"  Royal  Blue- 
inate,  despotic, 
age,  the  dangh- 
unhappy  child, 
;ice.     Well  did 
d  on  Katharine 
il  did  he  know, 
"  wonld  rather 
I  queen  of  the 
was  callous  and 
aUed  being  wos 
roung  Catherine 
rirtuous  mother 
iry,  were  equally 
atholic,  he  cora- 
e  and  after  his 
Catholic  Church, 
ast  and  demon, 
ll-nigh  departed, 
I  memory  makes 
nful  as  it  must 
one  to  the  true 


Church.  Even  in  the  first  fervor  of  the  Reformation,  its  kings,  as 
Henry  YIII.;  its  divines,  as  Cranmer ;  its  martyrs,  as  those  of 
Mr.  Fox,  who  were  so  often  found  in  the  body  after  martyrdom, 
and  were  so  ready  to  purchase  their  lives  by  recantation ;  its 
virgins,  as  Queen  Elizabeth ;  its  matrons,  as  Anna  Boleyn  and 
Jane  Seymour,  bear  but  a  poor  comparison  with  Constantine  and 
Tbeodosius,  with,  Polycarp  and  Chrysostom,  with  Agnes  and 
Felicitas  and  Monica,  and  so  many  thousands  of  the  ancient  Chris- 
tians. 

But  Catherine's  historical  and  theological  studies  were  disagree* 
ably  interrupted.  Her  guardian's  afifairs  became  so  much  em- 
barrassed that  he  was  soon  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  His  family  were 
actually  starving.  After  fasting  a  whole  day,  she  considered  a 
little  bread  in  the  evening  a  luxury,  and  the  bare  boards  became 
her  nightly  couch.  Her  cheerfulness  never  forsook  her,  and  in 
after-life  she  used  often  say  that  she  took  her  rest  as  contentedly 
on  the  hard  floor  as  when  lying  on  down  and  surrounded  with 
luxuries.  Hence  she  concluded  that  people  are  much  better  able 
to  bear  hardships  in  Qod's  service  than  they  generally  imagine, 
and  that  happiness  does  not  consist  in  temporal  comforts,  since 
many  are  very  happy  in  the  midst  of  poverty.  Trials  which  in 
(^rospect  seem  unendurable,  are  not  so  very  dreadful  when  we  view 
them  closely,  for  onr  good  God  always  sends  the  grace  with  the 
cross.  She  would  sometimes  allude  to  the  sorrows  of  her  early 
years,  drawing  motives  of  instruction  and  gratitude  to  God  from 
every  occurrence,  and  teaching  her  children  to  make  useful  and 
cheering  reflections  on  the  disasirous  events  of  this  passing  life. 
She  had  such  a  talent,  or  rather  a  gprace,  for  consoling  the  afflicted, 
and  encouraging  them  to  bear  up  manfully  under  their  sorrows, 
that  she  was  often  styled  an  angel  of  consolation.  Indeed,  nothing 
ever  seemed  to  come  amiss  to  her  ;  with  the  eyes  of  her  soul  she 
saw  God  and  His  beautiftil  angels  arranging  and  directing  every 
thing.  Her  greatest  trial  arose  from  the  fact  that  during  her 
whole  life,  "  the  tomb,"  as  she  expressed  it,  "  seemed  never  to  be 
closed  in  her  regard  ;"  but  even  in  this  case  she  did  not  mourn  as 
the;'  do  who  have  no  hope,  and  she  felt  if  she  saw  not,  that— 


n 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINB  MCAULBT. 


"  There  are  angels  to  watch  by  the  graves  we  love , 
And  when  we  are  kneeling  near  them, 
They  whiHpor  our  hearts  of  the  God  above, 
Who  knows  His  own  time  to  cheer  them  t" 

Catherine  bod  grown  up  so  rapidly,  and  had  sach  a  formed 
character,  that  she  war*  taken  to  be  ranch  older  than  she  really 
was.*  She  was  hardly  sixteen  when  she  had  several  opportunities 
of  repairing  her  shattered  fortunes  by  forming  an  eligible  matri- 
monial  alliance,  bnt  nothing  coald  induce  her  to  accept  an  offer  of 
that  nature. 

After  some  time,  her  guardian,s  prospects  improved,  but  he 
never  entirely  regained  bis  former  position.  Catherine  was  a  Cath- 
olic from  conviction,  but  it  was  some  time  before  she  found  herself 
a  child  of  that  mighty  mother,  the  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church, 
for  whose  propagation  she  was  destined  to  effect  such  great  things. 
She  contrived  to  become  acquainted  with  the  Very  Rev.  Dean  Lubd, 
of  St.  James',  who  consoled  and  encouraged  her.  Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Betagh,  whose  learning  and  piety  then  reflected  lustre  on  the  Irish 
Church,  also  fortified  and  instructed  her.  But  God  was  pleased  to 
defer  her  open  profession  of  the  faith  till  it  involved  greater 
sacrifice.  She  had  now  little  to  risk,  but  we  shall  soon  find  her 
practising  her  religion  when  she  felt  that  such  a  course  would  make 
her  homeless  and  friendless,  and  quench  the  first  gleam  of  good 
fortune  which  had  gladdened  her  heart  for  years. 

About  the  period  of  her  interior  conflict,  a  lady  and  gentleman, 
distantly  connected  with  her  mother,  returned  to  Ireland  after  a 
long  residence  in  India.  They  purchased  Coolock  House  and 
demesne,  near  the  village  of  Coolock,  a  few  miles  north  of  Dublin, 
wherq  they  lived,  according  to  their  taste,  rather  returedly.  Visit- 
ing the  physician  in  whose  family  Catherine  resided,  they  were  so 
struck  with  her  gentle,  attractive  appearance  that  they  desired  a 
more  intimate  acquaintance;  and  findmg  that  she  was  endowed  with 

*  In  mature  life  she  was  taken  to  be  much  yonnger  than  she  was.  This  was 
owing  to  the  extreme  fairness  of  her  oomplozion.  Her  godchild  speaks  of  her 
aa  being  "  very  young"  when  ahe  became  an  heiress,  thoagh  she  was  then  past 
thir^. 


< 


r>^- 


1 


sncli  a  formed 
than  she  really 
al  opportnnitiea 
I  eligible  matri- 
cept  an  offer  of 

nproved,  but  he 
rine  was  a  Gath- 
she  found  herself 
postolic  Church, 
ach  great  things. 
Elev.  Dean  Lub6, 
Very  Rev.  Dr. 
istre  on  the  Irish 
)d  was  pleased  to 
involved  greater 
all  soon  find  her 
turse  would  make 
t  gleam  of  good 

y  and  gentleman, 
)  Ireland  after  a 
lock  House  and 
north  of  Dublin, 
retiredly.  Visit- 
led,  they  were  so 
dat  they  desired  a 
was  endowed  with 

iBhowM.  This  was 
idohild  epeakB  of  her 
gh  she  WM  then  p»»t 


LIFE  OP  CATHKBINK  MOAULBY. 


78 


remarkable  good  sense  and  cheerfulness,  they  became  so  warmly 
attached  to  her  that  they  could  not  bear  to  bo  deprived  of  her  so- 
ciety  for  a  day.  Finally,  they  offered  to  adopt  her.  The  advan- 
tages  of  such,  a  proposal  were  too  evident  to  admit  of  its  rejection 
and  towards  the  end  of  1803,  she  was  transferred  to  her  new  and 
beautiful  home,  where  she  soon  became  the  idolized  child  of  her 
adopted  parents..  Her  affectionate  heart  was  almost  torn  by  this 
all  but  total  separation  from  the  kind  friends  of  her  youth  but  in 
tune  her  loneliness  wore  off,  and  she  was  not  only  contented  but 
happy  in  Coolock  House. 


f  J  ^' 


CHAPTER    V. 

Catherine  inatrnoted  by  Very  Hot.  Dr.  Murray.— Mr.  Callahan.— Hi»  portraits- 
Mrs.  Callahan.— Her  generosity.— Uofortonate  allianMS.— Ifflportance  of  train* 
ing  women  of  every  rank  for  their  domeitio  duliei. — Importanos  of  prayer  and 
deliberation  before  choosing  a  state  in  life. 

NO  sooner  was  Catherine  quietly  domiciled  with  her  new  friends 
than  her  interior  anxiety,  which  had  been  partially  suspended 
by  the  norelty  and  distraction  of  her  position,  became  more  violeut 
than  ever.  The  Catholic  works  loaned  her  by  her  clerical  friends 
she  read,  slowly  and  prayerfully,  but  circumstanced  as  she  was,  sle 
scarcely  knew  how  to  proceed.  Temptations  to  shake  her  resolu- 
tion were  not  wanting,  and  she  suffered  a  mental  conflict,  grievoas 
beyond  description,  but,  by  the  grace  of  Qod,  she  determined  to 
follow  the  dictates  of  her  conscience  at  every  risk.  Framing 
some  excuse  for  going  to  town  alone,  she  left  her  carriage  at  the 
door  of  a  milliner's  shop  in  Sackville-street,  where  she  had  made  a 
few  purchases,  and  hurried  to  a  Catholic  chapel  in  the  vicinity. 
Trembling,  and  almost  breathless,  she  begged  a  few  moments'  intei^ 
view  with  a  priest,  and  Rev.  Dr.  Murray,  afterwards  archbishop, 
promptly  appeared.  He  received  her  most  cordially,  removed  her 
remaining  difficulties,  and  instructed  her  for  confession,  inviting  her 
to  repeat  her  visit  whenever  she  could.  She  punctually  followed 
his  advice,  but  it  was  not  until  after  she  had  received  the  bread  of 
the  strong  i  the  Holy  Communion,  that  she  felt  courage  to  make 
her  parents  aware  that  she  was  determined  to  live  and  die  in  the 
Holy  Catholic  Church. 

Mr.  Callahati  was  a  man  of  erudition  and  energy,  whose  pursuits 
were  chiefly  of  asci'utific  nature,  and  he  continued  in  old  age  to 
study  his  favorite  branches  with  all  the  ardor  of  youth.  In  reli- 
gious matters  he  does  not  appear  to  have  taken  much  interest,  rarely 
attending  any  place  of  worship  ;  but,  according  to  Catherine's 


rjv 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCaULET. 


T6 


a,-HU  portr*tt^ 
porUnce  of  tr»in- 
Doe  of  pr»yer  and 


her  new  friends 
tially  suspended 
.me  more  yioleat 
•  clerical  friends 
i  as  she  was,  she 
hake  her  resola- 
:onflict,  grieTcaa 
e  dctenmned  to 
risk.     Framing 
r  carriage  at  the 
I  she  had  made  a 
in  the  vicinity. 
n  moments'  inter- 
'ards  archbishop, 
y,  removed  her 
ision,  inviting  her 
nctaally  followed 
lived  the  bread  of 
courage  to  make 
e  and  die  in  the 

ry,  whose  pursuits 
ed  in  old  age  to 
youth.  In  reli- 
ich  interest,  rarely 
ig  to  Catherine's 


account,  his  character  was  without  a  blemish.  Though  his  dis- 
positioa  was  remarkably  cheerful,  hi.s  conversation  was  never  light 
or  frivolous.  In  appearance  he  was  very  prepossessing  ;  his  head 
Gnido  would  gladly  have  painted  ;  in  his  countenance  gravity, 
iutc'lligence,  benevolence,  and  suavity  were  happily  l.lcnded.  A 
fine  portrait  of  this  noblr  gentleman  used  to  hang  in  one  of  the 
parlors  of  Baggot-etreet  Uouse,  v-liich  strack  the  late  archbishop 
BO  much  that  he  desired  Miss  McAnley  to  keep  it  there-  a  rare 
privilege  for  the  likeness  of  a  secular  in  a  convent.  His  Grace  was 
quite  an  adept  in  judging  character  by  the  countenance — seldom  an 
infallible  index — but  in  this  instance  he  was  not  mistaken.  One 
could  scarcely  look  at  this  picture  without  admiring  the  venerable 
face,  which  seems  to  smile  on  the  canvass.  The  deference  and 
attention  Mr.  Callahan  invariably  evinced  towards  his  umiable 
consort,  proved  tJiat  time,  if  it  robbed  her  of  the  charms  that  first 
attracted  him,  had  but  increased  his  affectionate  regarii 

Mrs.  Callahan  was  very  gentle  and  amiable.  Her  health,  im- 
paired bv  a  long  residence  in  India,  was  such  as  to  make  her  a 
valetudinarian  and  an  invalid  by  turns.  She  bore  her  little  troubles 
with  tolerable  patience,  was  kind  and  considerate  to  all  around  her, 
and  regarded  her  husband  with  mingled  feelings  of  admiration  and 
respect.  Bom  among  the  Friends,  or  Quakers,  she  rarely  attended 
their  meetings,  contenting  herself  with  mere  moral  goodness,  in 
which  she  certainly  excelled.  In  fact,  but  one  thing  seemed  want- 
ing to  the  perfection  of  this  worthy  pair ;  alas,  that  it  should  be 
so  essential  a  thing  ;  for,  "without  fait!  it  is  impossible  to  please 
God."  Catherine  grieved  to  see  them,  like  the  Centurion  of  the 
Acts,  practising  virtue  without  the  supernatural  motives  which 
make  it  glorious  to  God  and  meritorions  to  man.  It  was  her 
constant  prayer  that,  like  the  same  Centurion,  then*  alms  and 
virtues  might,  through  the  petitions  of  tht  oor,  one  day  merit  for 
them  t  he  inestimable  blessings  to  which  the  Catholic  Church  admits 
her  cliiidren.  The  following  incident  will  suffice  to  show  that  Mrs. 
Callahan  was  no  common-place  person. 

A  young  man,  to  whom  Mr.  Callahan  li  u  (Own  much  kindness, 
proved  his  gratitude  by  trying  to  sow  diflsenaions  in  the  family. 
Baffled  in  this  benevolent  project,  he  resolved  to  wreak  his  vea* 


^ 


76 


LIFE  OF  CATHEEINE  MC'AULET. 


geance  on  Mrs.  Callahan.  He  sent  her  anotiymoM  letters,  full  of 
cutting  allusions  to  her  early  doinpstic  afflictions,  and  highly  out- 
rageous to  her  feelings.  Some  time  elapsed  before  Catherine  could 
soothe  the  poor  lady,  so  bitterly  did  she  rjLCut  these  insults.  A 
few  weeks  after,  the  mother  of  this  gontlcmau  waited  on  Mrs. 
Callahan  to  ask  a  favor  for  her  son.  When  she  retired,  the  ancient 
mistress  of  Coolock  wept  and  sobbed  bitterly,  <"•.«•  excessive  sensi 
tiveness  of  disposition  had  been  her  cross  through  lit',-.  At  length 
she  called  Catherine,  and  said  : 

"  Mrs.  M called  to  inform  me  that  her  ?on  has  been  offered 

a  commission,  provided  he  can  pay  at  once  three  hundred  pounds.* 
Such  an  opportunity  may  not  occur  again,  and  she  desires  that  I 
should  prevail  on  Mr.  Callahan  to  give  the  money." 
'  "  Well,"  said  Catherine,  gently,  •'  yon  will  surely  do  so  T 
"  What !"  exclaimed  the  agitated  lady,  "  can  I  be  expected  to 
exert  my  influence  in  favor  of  one  who  has  maliciously  endeavored 
to  deprive  me  of  my  husband's  esteem  ?" 

Then  taking  the  letters  fro=?  her  desk,  she  exclaimed  : 
"  Were  I  to  read  these,  no  solicitation  could  prevail  on  me  to 
serve  him.     He  has  wounded  my  feelings  without  any  provocation, 
but  I  will  not  imitate  his  baseness." 

Throwing  the  slanderous  papers  in  the  fire,  and  stifling  the  re- 
membrance of  the  bitter  tears  they  cost  her,  she  proceeded  to 
the  library,  and  pleaded  successfully  with  Mr.  Callahan  for  the. 
money. 

Confounded  by  such  generosity,  the  young  ensign  could  not  bring 
himself  to  enter  her  presence,  but  commissioned  his  mother,  who 
knew  nothing  of  the  anonymous  letters,  to  thank  his  benefactress 
for  him.  Mrs.  Callahan,  however,  had  so  completely  forgiven  him, 
that  the  past  seemed  utterly  obliterated  from  her  memory  ;  yet  he 
had  offended  her  in  a  manner  that  few  women  forgive,  and  fewer 
still  forget.  Catherine,  too,  acted  nobly  in  this  matter,  for  the 
fe-eKtlsman  being  distantly  related  to  Mr.  Callahan,  she  was  not 
ignoran.  (hat  jealousy  oi"  her  position  in  the  family  had  been  one  of 
his  motives  for  insulting  the  lady  of  Coolock,  though  that  lady, 


•  A  ooramisBion  in  the  British  army  costs  about  five  hundred  poandi. 


-•«•••«*••< 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBHO:  MCAULET. 


77 


letters,  full  of 
nd  highly  out- 
Jatherine  could 
Bse  insults.  A 
raited  on  Mrs. 
•ed,  the  ancient 
excessive  sensi 
ife.    At  length 

bas  been  offered 
indred  pounds.* 
le  desires  that  I 

I) 

y  do  so  1" 
be  expected  to 
•usly  endeavored 

limed : 

(revail  on  me  to 

any  provocation, 

id  stifling  the  re- 
le  proceeded  to 
Callahan  for  the. 

n  could  not  bring 
his  mother,  who 

his  benefactress 
;ely  forgiven  him, 

memory ;  yet  he 
ji^ive,  and  fewer 

matter,  for  the 
an,  she  was  not 
y  had  been  one  of 

longh  that  lady, 


with  characteristic  delicacy,  concealed  this  part  of  the  affair  from 
her  adopted  child. 

Besides  Catherine,  another  young  lady,  a  connection  of  Mr.  Cal- 
lahan's, usually  resided  at  Coolock,  who  in  disposition  and  taste 
presented  a  striking  contrast  to  her.  Her  gay,  thoughtless  life 
annoyed  Mr.  Callahan  very  much,  and  he  paid  the  enormoos  ac- 
counts of  her  milliners  and  dressmakers  with  a  very  bad  grace ; 
but  Mrs.  Callahan  always  excused  her  on  the  plea  of  youth  and 
inexperience.  She  finally  contracted  an  engagement  with  a  young 
gentleman  to  whom  her  guardian  had  many  objections,  though  he 
was  unable,  "  handsomely,"  to  forbid  his  visits.  On  the  wedding- 
day,  as  the  carriage,  which  bad  for  its  precious  freight  tHe  newly- 
wedded  pair,  wound  slowly  down  the  avenue,  Mr.  Callahan  looked 
sadly  on  the  bride,  who  had  given  him  so  much  uneasiness.  "  Poor 
thing,  poor  thing !"  he  sighed,  "  her  troubles  are  all  before  her ; 
her  present  bliss  will  not  last  long."  However,  he  gave  her  a 
bridal  gift  of  two  thousand  pounds,  while  Mrs.  Callahan,  who  had 
supplied  the  trousseau,  presented  her  with  a  handsomely  furnished 
house.  Before  .the  tour  was  over,  Mr.  P.  gratified  his  bride  by 
assuring  her  that  he  would  not  have  thought  of  her  except  as  Mr. 
Callahan's  heiress ;  and  that  he  would  greatly  prefer  a  sensible 
person  like  Miss  McAuley,  "  whom,"  said  he,  "  I  certainly  should 
have  espoused  had  I  not  considered  yon  more  likely  to  become  an 
heiress."  Supremely  precious  as  this  young  gentleman  esteemed 
himself,  it  is  quite  certain  that  Catherine  would,  or  actually  did, 
answer  such  a  magnanimous  proposal  by  a  negative. 

Ere  long  it  was  discovered  that  Mr.  P.  was  a  confirmed  gam- 
bler. Being  manager  of  a  bank,  in  the  conrse  of  a  few  years  he 
broke  trust,  and  finally  absconded  with  a  considerable  sum.  The. 
last  time  his  wife  saw  him  was  in  a  convict-siiip ;  nor  could  she 
hope  to  see  him  again,  for  he  was  transported  for  life.  Poor 
Mary  would  gladly  retrace  her  steps  were  it  possible,  but  she  had 
to  suffer  the  consequences  of  her  early  wilfulness.  There  was  one 
friend  who  sympathized  with  her,  relieved  her  wants,  and  assisted 
her  to  rear  her  fatherless  children.  That  friend  was  Catherine 
McAuley. 


andred  pound*. 


w 


LIFE  OF  (JATHBBINE  MOAULBT. 


This  wnB  neither  the  first  nor  the  last  nnhappj  alliance 
Catherine  saw  contracted.  Obliged  by  iier  position  to  mingle  a 
good  deal  in  society,  and  being  niiturully  of  a  disposition  that  in- 
vited  confidence,  slie,  while  yet  young,  saw  the  worlu  as  it  is  rather 
than  as  the  glowing  imagination  of  yonth  too  fi-eqaenti/  presents 
it.  As  matrimony  is,  according  to  St.  Francis  de  Sales,  a  profes- 
sion, prior  to  wliich  there  is  no  novitiate,  and  as  it  is  of  its  own 
nature  an  irrevocable  contract,  she  often  expressed  a  wish  that 
such  as  were  about  to  enter  that  holy  state  would  suffer  themselves 
to  be  guided  less  by  passion  than  by  Christian  prudence.  As  it  is 
the  ordinary  vocation  of  women,  and  as  the  good  of  society  in  gen- 
eral, an^  the  peace  and  happiness  of  every  family  in  particular, 
depend  more  on  the  multiplication  of  good  mothers,  women  capa- 
ble of  realizing  the  inportance  of  fuitilliiig  their  duties  well,  .ad 
mindful  that  they  exert  an  influence  which  must  extend  to  genera- 
tions yet  unborn — Catherine  required  that  her  Religious  should 
devote  themselves  in  a  special  manner  to  the  training  of  women 
and  girls,  particularly  the  poor,  whom  she  desired  should  be  brought 
op  honest,  industrious,  trustworthy  women,  not  afraid  of  labor, 
capable  of  bearing  privation,  and,  for  sake  of  their  fathers,  broth- 
ers, or  husbands,  fully  alive  to  the  necessity  of  making  their  poor 
homes  as  happy  as  possible.  Their  education  she  would  have  less 
bri'liant  than  solid — nor  would  she,  however  intensely  devoted  to 
the  poor,  ever  suffer  them  to  be  brought  up  in  such  over-refinement 
as  might  unfit  them  for  encountering  the  stern  realities  of  life, 
which  she  wished  them  to  expect,  and  brace  themselves  to  meet,  in 
a  Christian  spirit,  rather  than  endeavor  to  avoid.  With  regard 
to  the  rich,  though  si:  e  desired  they  should  be  taught  every  accom- 
plishment capable  cf  adding  a  single  charm  io  their  homes,  or 
.  of  whiling  away  in  an  innocent,  if  not  useful,  manner,  the  too-abun- 
tlant  leisure  of  high  life,  she  often  regretted  that  many  ladies  who 
appear  to  great  advantage  in  the  ball-room  are  but  poorly  fitted 
for  their  position  as  mistresses  of  families,  especially  if  pecuniary 
reverses  or  domestio  calamities  compel  them  to  retreat  from  the 
fashionable  world  upon  which  they  have  unhappily  fixed  their  af- 
fections.   She  used  to  say  that  of  all  the  ladies  she  had  known 


■•»vi 


LIFE  OF   CATHEBINE  XCAULET. 


79 


appy  alliance 
I  to  mingle  a 
«tlou  that  in- 
1  as  it  is  rather 
lently  presents 
Sales,  a  profes- 
t  is  of  its  own 
]  a  wish  that 
iffer  themselves 
encc.     As  it  is 
[■  society  in  gen- 
r  in  particular, 
!,  women  capa- 
iutics  wellt  .ad 
;tend  to  geuera- 
leligious  should 
uiiig  of  women 
ould  be  brought 
afraid  of  labor, 
r  fathers,  bioth- 
aking  their  poor 
would  have  less 
isely  devoted  to 
I  over-refinement 
realities  of  life, 
lelvcs  to  meet,  in 
With  regard 
rlit  every  accom- 
their  "aomsa,  or 
er,  the  too-abun- 
many  ladies  who 
but  poorly  fitted 
illy  if  pecuniary 
retreat  from  the 
y  fixed  their  af- 
Bhe  had  known 


in  yonth,  some  of  whom  bad  made  brilliant  alliances,  but  few  en- 
joyed domestic  peace  and  happiness,  or  rather  that  they  were  all 
happy  only  iu  proportion  as  they  grgppled  successfully  with  the 
difficulties  that  beset  them,  and  received  heavy  offlictions  in  a 
Christian  spirit.  And  she  believed  that  much  uiihappiness  might 
be  averted  by  training  girls  for  home  rather  than  for  the  parks  and 
ball-rooms,  and  impressing  on  their  minds  that  the  duties  they  may 
have  to  discharge  as  mistresses  of  families  are  not  invariably  easy 
and  agreeable  to  nature. 


"  We  have  leamed— indireetly,  indoed — tbitt,  in  the  flrst  edition  of  this  work, 
tber<>  <'<u  tome  erroncioua  statement  regarding  the  family  of  the  gentlaman  at 
whole  oouae  Catherine  reiided  for  a  very  short  lime  after  her  mother's'  death,  so 
short,  indeed,  that  Very  Rev.  Dean  Murphy*  does  not  notice  it  at  all,  but  says 
(hat  the  MoAuley  children  were  directly  taken  charge  of  by  Mr.  Armstrong. 

We  have  suppressed  the  statements  pointed  out  as  incorrect,  but  cannot' re atify 
them,  because  we  l^are  received  no  commmunieation  from  the  gontlemaa'j  d«> 
■cendants." 

*  Sketches  of  Irish  Nunneries,  p.  116. 


^ 


i><a!i'H^jB»'wBiwM<»J-iiif  II  Pmtmm 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Dr.  James  McAuloy.-Dr.  William  MaoauIey.-T«blo-tnlk.-Cntherine's  con- 
bidcrateness  for  convcrUi.-Bigotry  usually  the  result  of  early  training.- 
Cuiherine'B  life  at  Coolook.-IIer  trials.-llor  zeal  for  the  poor.-Her  view, 
on  the  importance  of  tlie  education  of  women  of  the  lower  ola«8es. 

JAMES  McAULEY  had,  as  we  have  already  stated,  entci-ed  a 
Military  Academy,  where  in  course  of  time  he  graduated  with 
honor;  and  when  his  study  of  army  tactics  and  the  surgical 
■  branches  of  Materia  Medica  was  completed,  he  became  surgeon 
and  staif-nfficer,  served  several  campaigns  under  Sir  Arthur  Wel- 
lesley,  afterwards  Duke  of  Wellington  ;  and  having  helped  to  gain 
the  day  the  French  so  bravely  contested  at  Waterloo,  retired  from 
tho  army,  and  practised  as  physician  in  Dublin.    He  was  a  most 
bigoted  Protestant,  ana  in  politics  was  just  such  another  Irishman 
as  his  commander-in-chief,  if,  indeed,  his  -ympathies  were  not  with 
the  "  Peep-o'-day  Boys,"  or  Orangemen.    Mary,  while  very  young, 
married  Dr.  William  Macauley,  a  physician  of  some   eminence. 
James  and  Catherine  often  met  at  their  sister's,  on  which  occasions 
there  was  generally  a  little  wrangling  about  religion.    The  doctors 
would  descant  eloquently  on  the  idolatrous  practices  of  Rone,  the 
corruption  of  the  Romish  clergy,  and  other  topics  equally  disagree- 
able to  Catholic  ears,  but  Catherine  usually  remained  silent.   Some- 
times Mary,  who  would  not  willingly  pain  even  a  Papist,  remon- 
strated with  the  gentlemen  for  saying  what  must  be  Jiriagreeablo 
to  their  dear  sisttr.    This,  of  course,  drew  an  apology  from  the 
brothers.   They  forgot  that  Kittie  was  a  Ciaholic,— a  fact  of  which, 
by  their  own  account,  they  were  generally  oblivious.    When  the 
Bccfl&ng  at  what  she  held  so  sacred  was  at  its  height,  she  would 
sometimes  say  :  "  Now,  James  and  William,  you  aro  discussing  a 
subject  o\  which  you  know  but  little.    If  you  would  patiently  listen 
to  an  explanstion  of  Catholic  dogmas,  you  might  perhaps  rovere 


.LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULEY. 


81 


-Cntherlno's  con- 
eurly  training.— 
poor."Hcr  vwwi 

bated,  entCi-ed  a 
graduated  with 
id  the  surgical 
became  surgeon 
3ir  Arthur  Wel- 
;  helped  to  gain 
loo,  retired  from 
He  was  a  most 
inother  Irishman 
were  not  with 
'hile  very  yonng, 
some  eminence, 
hich  occasions 
The  doctors 
of  Rome,  the 
equally  difia^rcL'- 
siletit.   Somo- 
Pttpist,  cemon- 
uLrfttgreeablo 
)logy  from  the 
fact  of  which, 
"When  the 
sight,  she  would 
are  discuaainB;  a 
patiently  listen 
perhaps  revere 


them  as  I  do,"  Whatever  thej  cuid,  she  never  evinced  the  least 
annoyance,  hoping  that  their  ignorance  cxcuijcc!  them,  and  willing 
to  give  them  an  example  of  ChriPtinn  forbearance. 

Dr.  William  Macanlcy  was  diametrically  opposed  to  every  thing 
Catholic — the  very  term,  Roman,  was  odious  to  liim  ;  bigotry  in 
the  highest  degree  was  the  peculiar  feature  of  his  character.  The 
benevolence  evhiced  for  mankind  in  general  by  Caligula,  when  he 
wished  that  the  whole  human  race  had  but  one  neck,  t!int  he  might 
exterminate  them  at  a  blow,  was  reserved  by  Dr.  Wlllium  for 
Catholics  in  particular.  He  used  to  boast  that  he  never,  during 
his  whole  life,  left  any  thing  nndone  that  could  injure  Catholicity, 
wherever  ho  had  the  smallest  power  or  inllucnce  ;  and  he  thought 
this  was  the  most  praiseworthy  feifture  in  bis  whole  conduct — bia 
chief  title  to  iieaven. 

Thus,  from  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  her,  had  Catherine  con- 
tinually to  suffer ;  but  God  blessed  and  fortified  this  youthful  con- 
fessor. 

All  her  life  she  had  the  greatest  sympathy  for  converts,  for  none 
knew  better  than  she  the  rank  prejudice  in  which  Protestants  were 
then  reared ;  nor  would  she  give  much  credit  to  Catholics,  who  had 
been  differently  brought  up,  for  showing  in  their  regard  the  great- 
est forbearance.  What  these  gentlemen  did,  she  considered  to  be 
done  in  ignorance  ;  and  whether  that  ignorance  was  invincible  or 
inexcusable,  has  long  since  been  decided  by  an  une''ring  tribunal. 
"  Condemn  not,  and  you  shall  not  be  condemned,"  said  our  Lord  ; 
and  if  this  divine  prohibition  had  never  been  uttered,  a  little  reflec- 
tion should  make  us  slow  to  condemn.  For,  how  stands  the  case 
between  my  friend,  who  is  a  bigot,  ;  ,\d  myself,  who  am  not  t  I  was 
born  a  Catholic.  1  was  early  instructed  in  the  sublime  truths  of 
the  ancient  faith,  and  trained  to  the  practice  of  the  duties  it  im- 
poses. My  parents  did  not  omit  to  inform  mo  that  there  were 
many  who  knew  not  God,  many  who  refused  to  submit  to  the 
Church  He  established,  many  who  belonged  in  name  to  thit 
Olit^rch,  but  disgraced  it  by  their  lives.  But  they  told  mo,  too, 
that  I  must  discern  between  the  error  and  the  erring,  between  sin 
and  the  siimcr ;  and  that,  while  bound  to  hate  the  first,  I  was 
equally  bound  to  iove  the  second.    Charity,  th«y  said,  wa«  the 


i 
■I 

I 


'■^L. 


S2 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


essence  of  Christianity;  without  it  there  was  no  true  religion,  for 
only  "  he  that  lovcth  his  neighbor  hath  fulfilled  the  law ;"  and 
they  admonished  me  to  win  back  the  straying  by  evo/y  possible 
mcanf,  especially  by  prayer  and  good  example.  And  if,  after  all 
this,  I  am,  or  know  that  I  ought  to  be,  charitable,  can  I  deserve 
very  much  praise  ? 

But  how  has  it  been  with  my  friend?  He  was  born— no  matter 
in  what  sect.  He  was  early  taught  that  there  was  one  set  of 
people  (in  earth  whom  it  would  be  a  good  work  to  exterminate. 
I'hey  were  idolaters,  they  encouraged  men  to  break  God's  laws, 
ond  then  pretended  to  forgive  them  for  money ;  they  revelled  in 
every  crime,  and  those  who  tolerated  their  wickedness  were  acces- 
sory to  their  guilt.  He  was  told  how  angry  God  was  with  Saul 
for  sparing  the  king  of  a  wicked  race,  and  how  the  holy  prophet 
Bamuel  cut  in  pieces  the  guilty  Agag.  Many  similar  instances 
were  given,  *rhich  we  will  be  excused  from  recapitulating,  and  all 
riiine,  peihaps,  from  a  fond  mother's  lips ;  and  who  could  doubt 
any  thing  from  such  a  source?  Well,  this  child  grew  np  intolerant 
and  liigoted  ;  but  could  it  possibly  be  otherwise  ? 

From  the  period  of  Catherine's  open  practice  of  the  Catholic 
faith  till  her  happy  death,  she  seemed  to  live  but  for  the  glory  of 
Uud  and  the  salvation  of  souls.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Callahan,  though 
they  loved  her  too  well  to  discard  her  for  following  her  convictions, 
had  been  much  better  pleased  if  she  had  kept  to  the  creed  of  her 
relatives,  or  even  renounced  every  creed  ;  and  if  they  did  not 
openly  coerce  her,  they  did  little  to  check  the  petty  annoyances  to 
which  she  was  daily  subjected.  Sevei/al  of  the  professional  men  of 
Dublin  were  frequent  guests  at  Cool  )ck  House,  and  she  had  but 
too  many  opportunities  of  hearing  them  discuss  what  they  calleil 
Catholic  doctrines  :  such  as  the  idolatry  of  the  Mass  ;  the  supremo 
worship  paid  to  the  Virgin  ;  the  despotism  of  the  Romish  Church  ; 
the  selling  of  indulgences.  Once,  in  the  midst  of  a  very  animated 
discussion,  Mr,  Callahan  challenged  her  to  defend  her  position  as 
a  Catholic.  She  quietly  showed  that  if  abuses  occurred,  it  was  iu 
spite  of  the  commands  of  Uio  Chui  'i  and  not  because  of  them, 
and  gave  the  company  a  concise  explanation  of  her  creed.  Mr, 
Callahan  wr^  not  a  little  eurprisod  to  hear  her  give  such  gou<l 


ae  religion,  for 
he  law,"  and 
evci'y  possible 
nd  if,  after  all 
,  can  I  deserve 

am— no  matter 
yas  one  set  of 
to  exterminate, 
ak  God's  laws, 
they  revelled  in 
less  were  acces- 
was  with  Saul 
;hfc  holy  prophet 
jiroilar  instances 
tulating,  and  all 
fho  could  doabt 
:ew  up  intolerant 

of  the  Catholic 
for  the  glory  of 
Callahan,  though 
5  her  convictions, 
the  creed  of  her 
if  they  did  not 
tty  annoyances  to 
•ofessional  men  of 
and  she  had  but 
what  they  called 
ass  ;  the  supreme 
Romigh  Church ; 
r  a  very  animated 
lier  position  as 
)Cfurrcd,  it  was  iu 
because  of  them, 
f  her  creed.    Mr. 
r  give  such  go'^1 


LIPF!  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET.  M 

reasons  for  the  faitli  that  was  in  her  ;  and  though  a  little  ashamed 
of  being  puzzled  by  .so  young  a  jirl,  paid  a  handsome  compliment 
to  her  controversi  .1  abilities,  and  did  not  attack  her  principles 
.  again.  But  the  state  of  religion,  at  homo  and  abroad,  during  the 
firsi  thirty  years  of  Catherine's  life,  was  such,  that  it  would  not  bo 
easy  to  banish  religious  topics  frc     iny  table. 

At  home,  the  excitement  was  ^^ometimes  intense.  One  party 
agitating  Emancipation  in  every  direction,  another  violently  oppos- 
ing it,  and  not  a  few  remaining  neutral.  Politically,  the  country 
was  in  a  very  unsettled  state ;  and  Oi  inge  disturbances  in  the 
North,  and  tithe  slaughters  in  the  South,  were  more  than  sufficient 
to  keep  up  the  excitement  on  all  sides.  The  guests  at  Coolock 
used  to  declare  that  every  murder  and  robbery  committed,  from 
Cape  Clear  to  the  Giant's  Causeway,  inclusively,  were  incited  by 
the  priests  ;  and  that  as  long  as  there  were  men  to  give  an  igno- 
"^.iit  peasantry  license  to  commit  crimes,  the  country  could  never 
be  happy  or  prosperous.  Catherine  was  often  surprised  to  observe 
the  one-sided  views  her  friends  took  of  every  occurrence  bearing  a 
religious  aspect.  For  instance,  during  the  insurrections  at  the  close 
of  the  last  century,  suppressed  at  the  cost  of  a  hundred  thousand 
lives,  it  happened  that  one  Protestant  church  was  demolished. 
This  fact  they  were  never  weary  of  lamenting,  while  the  sixty-five 
Catholic  chapels  that  were  burned  or  demolished  in  Leiuster  alone, 
seemed  entirely  to  es(  iie  their  observation.  The  pitch-caps,  and 
other  barbarous  modes  of  torture  inflicted  on  an  inoffensive  peas- 
antry on  the  roost  trivial  pretexts,  appeared  to  excite  no  sympathy  ; 
while  if  an  Orangeman  got  a  scratch  in  a  fray,  their  blood  was  in- 
stantly up.  The  fact  that  a  few  prifsts,  finding  their  little  moun- 
tain chapels  burned,  and  seeing  tlicir  flocks  assemble  in  the  open 
air,  many  of  them  bearing  tokens  but  too  eloquent  of  the  torture 
they  had  endured,  volunteered  the  opinion  that  it  would  be  better 
to  die  in  a  fair  field  than  to  bo  tortured  to  death  in  so  savage 
a  manner,  excited  the  execration  of  the  visitors  at  Coolock  ;  while 
they  ignored  the  fact  that  all  the  Irish  bishops,  and  nearly  all  the 
clergy,  used  their  best  influence  to  prevent  an  insurrection,  tho 
results  of  which  they  could  not  but  foresee. 

Abroad,  the  everlasting  Church  had  passed  through  strange 


w 


*-M 


84 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


Ticissitudes.  Catholicity  had  been  all  but  annihilated  in  the  fairest 
realms  of  Europe.  Priests  and  religions  had  been  nearly  extermi- 
nated by  banishment  or  the  guillotine  ;  the  royal  blood  of  descend- 
ants of  St.  Louis  had  dyed  the  pavements  of  Paris  ;  one  Pope  had 
died  a  martyr  in  a  foreign  land  ;  he  was  thought  to  be  the  last  of 
the  Popes.  Yet  he  had  a  successor,  but  that  successor  had  lan- 
guisi.  "^  for  eight  years  in  captivity.  Had  Pius  VII.  been  thus 
treated  by  an  heretical  or  schismatical  power,  it  would  not  be  sup- 
prising  ;  but  the  sacrilegious  hands  that  arrested  the  Vicar  of 
Christ  belonged  to  His  Most  Christian  Majesty,  the  Eldest  Son  of 
the  Church.  A  kmg  of  Rome  was  born,  but  he  never  reigned ; 
and  from  the  hour  when  Napoleon  stretched  forth  his  imperial  arm 
against  the  feeble  old  man  that  crowned  him,  his  star  waned,  and 
in  a  few  years,  set  in  total  darkness  on  the  lonely  rock  of  St. 
Helena. 

If,  in  these  events,  as  they  succeeded  each  other,  there  was  much 
to  excite  alarm  in  them  and  others,  there  was  also  something  to 
excite  hope  in  the  breasts  of  people  naturally  sanguine,  and  who 
have,  as  a  general  rule,  the  happy  quality  of  looking  at  the 
brightest  side  of  every  thing.  But  those  with  whom  Catherine 
was  obliged  to  associate,  always  saw  every  occurrence  from  one 
pecui  ar  point  of  view. 

The  conversations  Catherine  was  obliged  to  listen  to  were  ex- 
ceedingly painful  to  her;  so  much  so,  that  she  often  said  she 
would  a  great  deal  rather  absent  herself  from  dinner  than  be  forced 
to  listen  to  them.  To  a  very  dear  friend  of  hers,  Mrs.  Counsellor 
Bearing,  she  sometimes  remarked  that  it  was  strange  how  gentle- 
men, otherwise  so  estimable,  continually  bore  false  witness  against 
their  neighbors  the  Catholics  ;  adding,  that  however  erudite  these 
members  of  the  Dublin  bar  and  faculty  were  in  other  respects, 
they  were  shamefully  ignorant  of  the  doctrines  they  took  such 
pleasure  in  misrepresenting.  Mrs.  Bearing  entirely  agreed  with 
her  •  and  when  next  the  "  monstrous  state  of  things"  became 
the  topic,  she  gently  suggested  that  there  was  ouc  Catholic 
present. 

Catherine  was  much  pained,  too,  by  the  difficulty  she  found  in 
attending  to  her  duties  «8  »  Catholic.    A  rainy  Sunday  is  by  no 


UFK  OF  CATHEBIKE  UOAULET. 


85 


in  the  fairest 
!arly  extermi- 
»d  of  desceud- 
uue  Pope  had 
be  the  last  of 
;s8or  had  lan- 
II.  been  thus 
id  not  be  sur- 
the  Vicar  of 
Eldest  Son  of 
lever  reigned; 
3  imperial  arm 
tar  waned,  and 
ily  rock  of  St. 

here  wa?  much 
>  something  to 
guine,  and  who 
ooking  at  the 
lom  Catherine 
•euce  from  one 

;en  to  were  ex- 
often  said  she 
•  thm  be  forced 
)At3.  Counsellor 
igc  how  gentle- 
witness  against 
if  erudite  these 
other  respects, 
they  took  such 
y  agreed  with 
hings"  became 
one  Catholic 

ty  she  found  ia 
lunday  is  by  no 


means  nncommon  in  Ireland — that  land  of  sunshine  and  tears — and 
her  friends  expected  she  would  stay  at  home  on  such  occasions. 
But  she  knew  she  was  obliged,  under  pain  of  mortal  sin,  to  assist 
at  Mass  on  Sundays  and  holydays,  and  nothing  could  prevent  her, 
except  what  the  Church  recognized  as  a  lawful  hindrance,  and  a 
shower  of  rain  was  not  of  this  class.  Once,  Mr.  Callahan  peremp- 
torily ordered  h,er  to  remain  within.  She  sweetly  replied  that  shf 
.regretted  she  could  not  obey  him.  He  objected  that  it  would  be 
cruel  to  men  and  horses  to  send  them  out  in  such  weather ;  to 
which  she  responded  that  she  could  wrap  herself  np  warmly  and 
walk.  This  he  would  not  permit.  He  was  evidently  annoyed  at 
her  "  positiveness  ;"  but  she  carried  her  point,  and  had  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  the  Catholic  servants  at  Mass,  too.  Mildly  but 
firmly,  she  showed  her  friends  that  she  waa  determined  to  obey 
every  precept  of  the  Church,  and  they  soon  perceived  that  it  was 
useless  to  throw  obstacles  in  her  way.  She  regretted  deeply  that 
she  could  not  assist  daily  at  'he  Holy  Sacrifice,  and  approach  the 
sacraments  h.  '^-^n  as  she  desired  ;  but  this  was  absolutely  impos- 
sible. Though  in  the  midst  of  Protestants,  she  rigorously  observed 
the  fasts  and  abstmence  prescribed  by  the  Church,  and  others  sug- 
gested by  her  own  devotion.  In  Lent  and  Advent  she  abstained 
from  wine  and  other  delicacies,  which  she  always  managed  to  do 
without  attracting  observation.  From  childhood,  she  ncer  tasted 
food  or  drink  of  any  kind  from  Holy  Thursday  till  Easter  Satur- 
du  1 , — a  practice  she  retained  till  her  death.  She  used,  in  after-life, 
to  say  that  fasting  and  abstinence  were  but  one  thing  at  Coolock, 
for  her  friends  never  thonght  of  having  fasting-fare  prepared  for 
her — an  omission  which  seems  unaccountable  in  such  kind  people. 
"  I  was  ashamed  to  take  more  vegetables  than  usual,"  she  would 
add,  "  lest  it  should  be  perceived  that  I  ate  nothing  else." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Callahan  were  so  decidedly  opposed  to  every  thing 
Catholic,  that  they  would  not  allow  a  crucifix  or  pious  picture  in 
the  house  ;  but  her  ingenuity  supplied  the  deficiency — the  panels  of 
the  doors  which  formed  a  cross,  or  the  branches  of  trees  which 
took  the  same  holy  form,  sufficed  to  remind  her  of  Jesus  crucified 
Much  of  her  time  was  occupied  with  reading  and  studies  of  a  serions 
nature.    She  was  very  fond  of  history,  bat  before  many  years 


w 


M 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


elapsed,  she,  like  the  great  St.  Austin,  grew  weary  of  every  book 
in  which  the  name  of  Jesns  Christ  was  not  mentioned.  When 
alone,  or,  os  she  thought,  unobserved,  her  lips  s'jemed  to  move  con- 
tinually in  prayer.  When  a  child,  she  had  copied,  in  a  rude  kind 
of  type,  the  Psalter  of  Jesus,  a  beautiful  praye*-,  to  which  she  was 
so  devoted,  that,  when  a  Sister  of  Mercy,  she  placed  it  among  the 
daily  devotions  for  Lent,  at  which  holy  seasoix  it  is  always  said 
after  Vespers.  Till  she  grew  up,  it  was  the  oaly  Catholic  prayer 
she  could  gain  access  to,  and  she  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  portions 
of  it  during  the  day,  even  when  she  walked  through  the  streets. 
The  following  passage  she  delighted  to  dwell  on : 

"O  Jesus,  make  me  always  remember  Thy  blessed  example, 
through  how  much  pain  and  how  little  pleasure  Thou  didst  press 
on  to  a  bitter  death." 

The  Universal  Prayer  was  likewise  a  favorite,  and  she  often  re- 
peated, impressively,  that  beautiful  petition  near  its  close : 

"  Discover  to  me,  dear  Lord,  the  nothingness  of  this  world,  the 
greatness  of  heaven,  the  shortness  of  time,  and  the  length  of 
eternity." 

-  This  prayer  she  recommends  the  Sisters  to  use  at  some  one  of 
their  daily  visits  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  as  that  made  after 
lecture.  The  Act  of  Reparation  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus, 
and  prayers  commemorative  of  the  sorrows  of  Mary,  also,  were 
among  her  daily  devotions. 

Thus,  laboring  to  make  her  own  heart  the  sanctuary  of  God, 
she  was  no  less  zealous  to  draw  otlurs  to  His  service.  The  Cath- 
olic servants  she  careMly  instructed  and  prepared  for  the  sacra- 
ments, and  all  the  poor  children  of  the  village  she  used  to  assemble 
at  the  gate-house  on  Sundays  and  festivals.  Aware  that  every 
Catholic  arrived  at  tho  use  of  reason  is  bound  to  know  the  principal 
mysteries  of  religion, — as  the  existence  of  one  God,  the  Blessed 
Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  and  Death  and  Resurrection  of  our 
Saviour,  future  states  of  reward  and  panishment, — she  always 
commenced  with  these  essentials.  This  ^t  considered  so  necessary, 
that  in  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  chapters  of  her  Rule,  she 
ordained  that  the  Sisters  teach  them  not  only  to  the  poor  children 
whom  they  instruct,  but  olso,  if  necessary,  to  the  sick  whom  thf  y 


f  of  CTCiy  book 
ationed.  When 
led  to  move  con- 
,  in  a  rude  kind 
)  which  she  was 
;ed  it  among  the 
;  is  always  said 
'  Catholic  prayer 
if  saying  portions 
)ngh  the  streets. 

blessed  example, 
Thou  didst  press 

ind  she  often  re- 
ts  close : 

of  this  world,  the 
d  the  length  of 

e  at  some  one  of 
that  made  after 
Heart  of  Jesus, 
Mary,  also,  were 

sanctuary  of  God, 
rvice.    The  Cath- 
red  for  the  sacra- 
used  to  assemble 
A.ware  that  every 
mow  the  principal 
od,  the  Blessed 
lurrection  of  our 
icnt, — she  always 
Jered  so  necessary, 
of  her  Rule,  she 
the  poor  children 
sick  whom  they 


TJFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


17 


▼isit,  and  the  distressed  women  whom  they  protect.  Her  zeal  as 
a  catechist  was  wonderful.  Those  who  once  heard  her  instructing 
could  never  forget  the  nnctlon  and  earnestness  with  which  she 
spoke.  By  lier  genial  kindness  she  obtained  an  influence  over 
her  pupils  which  had  a  beneficial  effect  on  their  after-lives. 

No  one  opplied  to  her  in  vain  for  sympatb",  relief,  or  instruction. 
If  she  had  not  large  alms  to  bestow,  she  t  '  not  at  least  withhold 
her  mite.  There  are  things  the  poor  prize  more  highly  than  gold, 
though  they  cost  the  donor  nothing ;  among  these  are  the  kind 
word,  the  gentle,  compassionate  look,  and  the  patient  hearing  of 
their  sorrows.  Every  one  can  do  much  to  alleviate  misery  and 
increase  happiness.  If  we  have  not  wealth  to  share  with  the 
indigent,  can  we  not  pour  the  prc'  ious  balm  of  sympathy  into  the 
crushed  and  sorrowful  heart  ?  If  we  cannot  break  bread  to  the 
poor,  or  clothe,  the  naked,  can  we  not  fill  thehr  hungry  souls  with 
good  things,  and  teach  them,  by  a  patient  endurance  of  their  pri- 
vations, to  cover  themselves  with  merit  before  God  ?  If  each  did 
a  little  towards  increasing  hnman  happiness,  the  world  would  be 
far  better  than  it  is,  for  "  Mercy  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him 
that  takes." 

Sometimes  Catherine  represented  to  her  parents  the  distress  that 
came  under  her  observation,  and -they  never  failed  to  assist  her  to 
relieve  it.  Sometimes  she  would  deprive  herself  of*  a  fashionable 
article  of  dress,  to  bestow  the  price  of  it  on  the  indigent.  Of  thia 
period  of  her  life,  her  friend,  Dean  GafiFney,*  writes :  "  Every  one 
who  had  distress  to  be  relieved,  affliction  to  be  mitigated,  troubles 
lo  be  encountered,  came  to  her,  and  to  the  best  of  her  ability  she 
advised  them  what  to  do.  Fer  zeal  made  her  a  missionary  in  her 
district.  In  these  works  of  cha  ity  and  usefulness  she  continued 
several  years,  during  which  sho  was  rendering  herself  each  day 
dearer  and  dearer  to  her  adopt*  d  parents.  .  .  .  She  was  ever 
indefatigable  in  her  exertions  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the  poor." 

Catherine  had  a  cpecial  attraction  for  instructing  servants,  be- 
cause she  knew  that  they  are  exposed  to  many  temptations,  and 
have  it  in  their  power  to  effect  much  good.    Her  '^eal  in  this  ro- 


*  In  liiii  sketch  already  quoted. 


w 


88 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


spect  never  abated,  and  when  God  inspired  her  to  found  a  new 
Institute  for  His  glory  and  tlie  honor  of  His  Blessed  Mother,  she 
made  the  protection  of  this  class  of  persons  its  peculiar  feature. 
A  striking  passage  of  her  Rule  shows  how  dear  this  object  was  to 
her  heart : 

"  The  Sisters  shall  feel  convinced  that  no  work  of  charity  can  be 
more  productive  of  good  to  society,  or  more  conducive  to  the 
happiness  of  the  poor,  than  the  careful  instruction  of  women ; 
since,  whatever  bo  the  station  they  are  destined  to  fill,  their  example 
and  advice  will  always  possess  influence,  and  wherever  a  religions 
woman  presides,  peace  and  good  order  are  generally  to  be  found." 
Every  one  will  recognize  the  wisdom  of  this  short  sentence  : 
"Educate  the  mothers  of  your  people,"  said  a  brilliant  au- 
thoress to  Napoleon,  when  he  inquired  how  he  could  best  promote 
the  interests  of  France.  But,  because  the  mothers,  by  the  usages 
of  society  or  other  causes,  are  obliged  often  to  absent  themselvea 
from  their  children,  Catherine  would  add  :  "  Instruct  the  nurses 
,  and  waiting-maids  too."  Certain  it  is,  that  the  strongest  impres- 
sions we  are  capable  of  receiving  are  generally  made  during  the 
first  seven  years  of  our  lives.  Now,  for  that  period,  the  care  of 
all  children,  from  the  prince  to  the  beggar,  devolves  on  women — 
whether  mothers,  nurses,  or  teachers.  How  important,  then,  that 
these  impressions  should  be  such  as  to  enable  ns  to  live  well  I  How 
many  children  have  been  rendered  docile  and  obedient  by  the 
judicious  training  of  a  pious  nurse  1  How  many,  too,  ere  reason 
dawned  on  their  young  minds,  contracted  from  a  similar  source 
bad  habits,  which  all  the  careful  management  and  holy  influence 
brought  to  bear  upon  their  after-lives,  have  been  powerless  to 
eradicate ! 


"^m 


•*k 


to  found  a  new 
!8ed  Mother,  she 
accullar  feature. 
is  object  was  to 

)f  charity  can  be 
anducive  to  the 
ion  fif  women  ; 
ill,  their  example 
rever  a  religions 
lly  to  be  found." 
rt  sentence  : 

a  brilliant  au* 
Id  best  promote 
*s,  by  the  usages 
bsent  themselres 
truct  the  nurses 
itrongest  impres- 
made  during  the 
riod,  the  care  of 
ves  on  vomen — 
irtant,  then,  that 
live  well  I  How 
obedient  by  the 
',  too,  ere  reason 
a  similar  source 
id  holy  influence 
«n  powerless  to 


CnAPTER   VII. 

A  soul  in  danger.— The  Servants'  A»yliim.— The  lost  sheep.— Shadows  of 
coming  events.— Cotherine's  efforts  to  mp.ko  the  poor  industrious.— Her  mod- 
orate  cxpeclations.— The  rich  man  and  his  heiress. 

AMONG  the  visitors  at  Coolock  was  a  gentleman  who  possessed 
a  handsome  property  in  the  neighborhood,  that  had  not  be- 
longed to  his  ancestors  at  the  Conquest,  nor,  indeed,  to  his  own 
grandfather.  His  reputation  for  hunting,  gambling,  selecting  good 
wines  and  using  the  same,  stood  deservedly  high  ;  while  his  sons, 
besides  being  skilled  in  these  accomplishments,  bore  in  many  other 
respects  a  very  unenviable  reputation.  Reports  of  their  freaks 
daily  reached  their  father,  but  he  foolishly  excused  them  till  it  was 
too  late.  "  They  were  wild,"  he  said  ;  "  they  would  get  out  of  it 
in  time ;  there  was  no  use  in  trying  t6  put  old  heads  on  young 
shoulders — he  liked  to  see  a  dash  of  spirit  about  young  men." 
There  certainly  was  a  dash  of  spirit  about  these  hopeful  scions, 
but  it  was  a  spkit  which  wise  people,  more  candid  than  courteous, 
did  not  hesitate  to  prophesy  would  end  in  dashing  them  to  a  place 
which  genteel  people  do  not  like  to  name.  When  public  opinion 
reprobated  them  as  a  public  scandal,  their  parents  remonstrated ; 
but  it  was  then  useless.  Parental  admonition  will  not  easily  re- 
claim those  whom  parental  example  has  first  decoyed.  Miss 
McAuley,  who  was  not  ignorant  of  the  reputation  borne  by  the 
sons  of  Mr.  M.,  encouraged  their  female  servants  to  come  to  her 
for  counsel  and  instruction,-  especially  the  housemaid,  who,  unfor- 
tunately for  herself,  was  remarkably  handsome.  Nor  was  she  igno- 
rant that,  if  poor  in  gold, 

— — —  "  A  very  ihowor 
Of  beauty  formed  her  earthly  dower." 

And  of  that  dower  she  was  not  a  little  vain.     Catharine  soon 
learned  that  young  Mr.  M.  was  more  attenti'-u  to  her  prol,^g6e 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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90 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


than  their  relative  positions  warranted,  and  that,  while  she  ex- 
pected to  become  his  bride,  it  was  evident  he  was  no  more  serious 
in  this  instance  than  in  others.  Sending  for  the  frail  girl,  sae  rea- 
soned with  her  in  a  manner  so  conclusive  and  aflfcctionate,  that  she 
at  once  offered  to  leave  her  situation.  Miss  McAulcy  then  rode 
into  Dublin  to  procure  her  admission  to  a  Servants'  Asylum.  Not 
imagining  for  a  moment  that  her  application  could  be  refused,  sha 
applied  at  the  Convent.  Here  she  narrated  the  poor  girl's  story; 
but  the  Sisters  could  do  nothing— it  was  the  secular  ladies  of  the 
committee  that  received  all  appeals— the  committee  met  every 
Monday. 

"  But,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  the  girl  may  be  lost  before  Mon- 
day. Her  case  is  a  desperate  one,  I  assure  you.  Can  you  not 
admit  her  at  once  ?" 

"  We  never  admit  any  one,"  said  the  Religious,  "  only  the  com- 
mittee do  this." 

With  a  heavy  heart  she  turned  homewards.  There  was  a  soul 
in  danger  of  perishing,  and  no  earthly  means  of  rescue.  The  object 
of  her  intense  solicitude,  who  was  anxiously  awaiting  her  return, 
thus  accosted  her : 

"  Have  you  found  me  any  place  to  stay,  ma'am  ?  If  I  leave  Mr. 
M.'s  before  my  quarter  is  up,  I  shall  have  to  go  without  wages." 

"  By  next  Monday,  please  God,  I  hope  to  have  a  comfortable 
home  for  you." 

"  Next  Monday !  Why,  ma'am,  it  is  dangerous  for  me  to  stay 
another  ho-.ir  in  my  situation." 

"  Well,  my  poor  child,  come  again  to-morrow.  Perhaps  I  can 
find  a  safe,  quiet  place  to  lodge  yon  in  till  Monday." 

The  girl  did  not  come  to-morrow.  Catherine  never  beheld  her 
fair  face  again.  That  very  evening,  Mr.  M.,  who  had  received  a 
hint  of  her  anxiety  to  quit  his  father's  house,  met  her  as  she  re- 
turned, and  all  that  Miss  McAuley  could  ever  learn  about  the  fair 
creature  was,  that  she  was  irremediably  lost.  Poor  child  I  her 
career  of  sin  commenced  ere  she  had  seen  seventeen  summers. 
Like  a  frail,  but  beauteous  bark,  which,  after  tossing  bravely  on 
the  blue  billows,  sinks  in  sight  of  a  well-manned  vessel  coming  to 
the  rescue,  she  sank  into  the  abyss  while  tho  hand  of  Mercy  waa 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  2ICAULEY. 


dl 


,  while  she  ex- 
no  more  serious 
li)  girl,  Eae  rea- 
lionate,  that  she 
Aulcy  then  rode 
i'  Asylum.  Not 
,  be  refused,  she 
)Oor  girl's  story; 
lar  ladies  of  the 
littec  met  every 

ost  before  Mou- 
I.     Can  you  not 

I,  "  only  the  com- 

rhcre  was  a  soul 
3cue.  The  object 
iitiug  her  return, 

?    If  I  leave  Mr. 
'ithout  wages." 
vo  a  comfortable 

18  for  me  to  stay 

Perhaps  I  can 

y." 

never  beheld  her 
0  had  received  a 
ct  her  as  she  re- 
im  about  the  fair 

Poor  child  I  her 
vputccn  summers. 
ossiug  bravely  on 

vessel  coming  to 
nd  of  Mercy  waa 


stretched  out  to  save  her.  Happy  for  her  had  her  face  been  less 
lovely,  and  her  heart  less  susceptible  of  the  vilo  praises  of  the 
flatterer  I 

Another  case  of  the  same  kind  brought  Miss  McAuley  again  to 
town;  but  the  ladies  could  not  give  a  unanimous  vole.  "There 
were,  unfortunately,  many  similar  cases,  the  names  on  the  books 
must  be  first  attended  to,  the  committee  should  be  prudent  ;  con- 
verts* thought  these  things  could  be  easily  accomplished,  but  they 
could  assure  Miss  McAuley  it  was  not  so,  they  had  their  difTicul- 
ties,"  &c.  In  vain  did  she  represent  the  danger  of  delay  and  the 
consequences  of  refusal,  tlie  disappointment  of  tho  young  creature 
who  was  looking  forward  with  bright  hope  to  such  a  protection 
from  ruin  that  otherwise  seemed  inevitable.  "  The  full  number 
ff&s  already  in  the  hou^e ;  it  was  useless  for  ladies  to  make  regula- 
tions if  they  did  not  observe  them."  Besides,  Lady  This,  and  Hon. 
Mrs.  That,  and  Madame  Somebody,  were  absent,  and  ♦'  ir  col- 
leagues did  not  wish  to  make  any  infringement  without  their  sanc- 
tion. She  ofTered  to  defray  whatever  expense  this  deviation  from 
their  established  rules  would  occasion  ;  she  even  besought  them  on 
her  knees  not  to  let  this  soul  bo  lost  like  the  other.  How  they 
could  resist  her  tears  and  importunities  it  is  not  easy  to  imagine ; 
perhaps  they  thought  they  conceded  a  groat  deal  in  entering  the 
gu  I's  name,  and  promising  to  admit  her  when  her  turn  came.  This 
was  all  that  could  be  obtained.  Alas  I  before  "  her  turn  came," 
she  had  los\;  that  virtue  without  which  woman  is  wretched  and  de- 
graded beyond  all  description  1 

The  temporal  and  perliaps  eternal  rnin  of  these  young  persons 
caused  Catherine  the  most  bitter  tears  she  ever  shed.  But  the 
lesson  was  not  lost  on  hor.  In  the  Institute  she  founded,  she  made 
the  protection  of  distressed  women  of  good  character  a  peculiar 
feature.  A  house  for  this  purpose  she  desired  to  see  attached  to 
every  Convent  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  ;  and  when  this  could  not  be 
established,  she  wished  the  Sisters  to  exert  themselves  to  remove 
poor  girls  from  dangerous  occasions,  to  lodge  them  in  safe  places, 
and  to  procure  them  situations.    She  made  efficient  regulations  for 

*  Aa  Cttberino't  frieadi  wer«  ftll  ProteiUDti,  ih«  wm  generally  taken  for  » 
oouvert.  ,i-,i ,     '<-  * 


92 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


admitting  them  to  the  houses  in  connection  with  most  Convents  of 
Mercy,  without  awaiting  tiic  result  of  the  deUberations  of  a  non- 
resident committee.  A  ccrlKicate  of  poverty  and  good  character 
from  a  clergyman,  the  recommendation  of  a  "  pious  orderly  woman," 
or  (he  knowledge  a  Sister  may  have  of  the  danger  to  wuich  a  young 
person  is  exposed  In  a  jtarticular  instance,  is  suffieieut  to  insure 
adu.ission.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  interest  she  took  in  these 
homes  for  the  virtuous,  llcr  letters  are  full  of  it  She  thought  it 
0  thousand  times  better  to  preserve  virtue  than  to  restore  it.  She 
knew  that  the  woman  who  loses  her  reputation  can  never  after  take 
her  proper  position  in  society,  no  matter  how  bitter  and  sincere  her 
repentanco  ;  and  she  grieved  to  think  that  good  people  seem  more 
anxious  to  relieve  poverty  when  accompanied  by  crime  than  when 
accompanied  by  virtue.  She  highl"  esteemed  Magdalen  Asylums, 
for  she  knew  that,  "  he  who  converteth  a  sinner  from  the  evil  of  his 
way  shall  save  his  own  soul ;"  but,  tliough  she  permitted  her  Sisters 
to  undertake  the  care  of  penitent  women  in  places  where  the  ad- 
mirable Order  of  the  Good  Shepherd  had  not  yet  been  introduced, 
she  desired  that  they  should  chiefly  rpp'y  themselves  to  preserve 
the  characters  of  poor  girls,  by  shielding  them  from  the  dangers  to 
which  indigence  and  inexperience  necessarily  expose  them.  Pres- 
ervation is  generally  easy,  but  conversion,  after  self-respect  and  the 
respect  of  others  are  lost,  is  often  impossible,  and  always  difiScult. 

Thus  did  Catherine  spend  her  early  years  in  works  of  jtiety  and 
charity,  unconsciously  preparing  herself  for  her  glorious  destiny. 
Even  now  she  might  have  said  v.  ith  holy  Job  :  "  From  my  infancy 
Mercy  grew  np  with  me :  and  it  came  out  with  me  from  my 
mother's  womb.  I  was  an  eye  to  the  blind  and  a  foot  to  the  lame. 
I  was  the  parent  of  the  poor.  I  wept  with  him  that  was  afflicted, 
and  my  soul  had  compassion  on  the  indigent.  I  have  not  made 
the  eyes  of  the  widow  wait,  nor  denied  bread  to  the  fatherless."* 

In  her  visits  to  Dr.  Murray,  she  became  aware  of  the  wants  of 
the  Poor  Schools  of  St.  Mary's  Parish,  Abbey-street.  She  found 
the  scholars  very  poorly  clad,  and  though  she  might  easily  relievo 
their  present  wants,  she  had  far  too  much  prudence  to  do  so, 


*  Job,  sssl. 


''A' 


,  f'        '   *.-*W*j-    -       '«A>Jlt**M*»!i^_     il^SiflJUlB 


mmmi^J^^ 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAUL5Y. 


03 


it  Convents  of 
ions  of  a  non- 
food clir.ractcr 
■ilcrly  woman," 
wUich  a  young 
L'ieut  to  insure 

took  in  these 
She  thought  it 
•cstore  it.    She 
never  after  take 
and  siu'-ere  her 
jple  seem  more 
irime  than  when 
;dalen  Asylums, 
n  the  evil  of  his 
ittcd  her  Sisters 
3  where  the  ad- 
been  introduced, 
Ives  to  preserve 
n  the  dangers  to 
,se  them.    Pres- 
f-respect  and  the 
ilways  difficult, 
•ks  of  piety  and 
rlorious  destiny. 
Trora  my  infancy 
th  me  from  my 
foot  to  the  lame, 
lat  was  afflicted, 

have  not  mado 
le  fatherless."* 

of  the  wants  of 
:eet.     She  found 

5ht  easily  relievo 

deuce  to  do  so, 


rightly  judging  that  it  would  be  much  more  elevating  to  their  cbar- 
oclcr  to  teach  them  to  do  something  for  themselves,  than  to  let 
them  feel  they  were  the  recipients  of  charity.  She  taught  them 
various  kinds  of  needlework,  plain  and  fancy  knittiny,  and  the  ar- 
ticles they  made  she  used  to  dispose  of  to  her  friends,  adding  a 
little  to  what  tliey  gave  :  thus  she  soon  made  the  children  see  that 
they  could  earn  tlieir  own  ololLing,  and  make  it  too.  But  desiring 
to  interest  others  also  in  this  charitable  work,  she  established  a 
repository  in  one  of  the  school-rooms,  where  such  sewing  oi  fancy- 
work  as  was  particularly  well  executed  was  exhibited,  and  she  fre- 
quently brought  her  friends  to  visit  the  children,  to  praise  their 
neatness  and  encourage  them  to  contribute  towards  their  own  sup- 
port. Tliese  benevolent  persons  usually  purchased  some  of  the  ar- 
ticles exhibited,  for  which  they  paid  liberally  ;  and  ere  long,  St. 
Mary's  children  were  clothed  as  comfortably  as  tliey  could  desire, 
and  they  felt  an  honest  pride  in  relieving  their  poor  parents  of  so 
large  a  part  of  their  burdens.  According  to  her  adopted  child's 
account,  who  often  accompanied  her  in  these  missions  of  benevo- 
lence. Miss  McAuley  wrought  a  similar  improvement  in  several 
other  schools,  particularly  that  of  the  village  of  Coolock 

In  this  she  set  an  example  well  worthy  of  imitation.  Remcw- 
bering  that  maxim  of  St.  Paul,  "  lie  that  will  not  work,  neither 
let  him  cat,"  she  always  strove  to  teach  the  healthy  poor  some 
means  of  earning  their  own  support,  showing  them  that  it  was  de- 
grading to  eat  any  one's  bread  while  chey  had  strength  to  work. 
But  let  the  poor  labor  ever  so  assiduously,  there  will  always  bo 
l)lenty  to  exercise  charity.  Take  the  common  instance  of  a  peiisant 
cr  laborer — say  one  of  the  best  of  his  class,  who  does  not  drink, 
and  is  never  idle  when  ho  can  procure  work.  His  wages  are  six 
or  seven  shillings*  a  week  :  out  of  tliis  ho  has  tO  pay  rent ;  to 
clothe  and  support  perhaps  a  wife  and  six  or  eight  children  ;  per- 
haps, too,  an  nged  parent  ond  some  destitute  relation.  Now  if  a 
child  dies,  the  coffin  und  shroud  will  run  awny  with  one  week's 
wages,  pt  least  ;  if  h»i  or  his  wife  pot  the  fever,  nothing  can  bo 
earned  till  after  recovery  ;   :!'  he  dies,  the  whole  family  become 

*  Uf  coii.-«o  wo  Hpuuk  of  litborors  in  IrvluiiJ ;  but  in  ouae  of  nicknoaa,  eto.,  th« 
cImh  would  not  bo  much  better  off  eUowhcre. 


\- 

; 

P\ 

i '' 

(<?,! 

1, 

1 

^ 

ft, 


nara^jn^ 


H 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


beggars.  The  wife  and  cliililrcn  of  a  reduced  tradesman  who  laiw 
guishes  a  few  months  or  years  in  consumption,  will  be  no  bettet 
off ; — and  all  tliis  is  misery  wliich  no  human  foresight  couid  pre" 
vent.  More  frequent  are  the  cases  in  whicii  distress  comes  from 
idleness,  extravagance,  or  habitual  intoxication  :  the  poor  children 
of  a  bad  father  have  to  suffer  the  consequences  of  his  errors. 
Kere,  charity  has  to  act  alone  ;  the  sufferers  can  do  little  or 
nothing  to  better  their  condition  :  and  such  instances  are  and  ever 
have  been  numerous.  And  this  is  all  the  better  for  us,  for,  "  As 
long  as  you  did  it  not  to  one  of  these  Aly  least  brethren,  you  did 
it  not  to  Me  ;"  and  how  could  we  minister  to  Him  if  we  did  not 
see  Him  suffering  in  His  members  ? 

It  is  a  source  of  inexhaustible  consolation  to  the  poor  all  the 
world  over,  that  the  Holy  Family  have  sanctified  poverty,  and 
raised  it  above  thrones  and  sceptres.  But  nothing  ever  sanctified 
sloth.  Tradition  tells  us  that  Mary,  now  Queen  of  heaven  and 
earth,  assiduously  plied  her  needle  to  aid  in  supporting  her  Divine 
Child,  and  earn  wherewith  to  assist  those  poorer  still  ;  and  the  rev- 
elations of  tile  Saints  assert  the  same.  Cliristian  art  has  ever  de- 
lighted to  represent  the  Fair  Boy  of  Nazareth,  whom  the  Jews 
knew  only  as  the  "  carpenter's  son,"  standing  by  Joseph's  side, 
and  working  at  his  humble  trade  ;  and  ploughs,  and  other  imple- 
ments fashioned  by  the  Divine  hands  of  Jesus  and  the  holy  hands 
of  His  foster-father,  were  among  the  most  jealously  hoarded  relics 
of  the  ancient  Christians,  It  is  good  to  feed  and  clothe  the  poor, 
but  it  would  be  much  better  to  teach  them  seme  honest  means  of 
earning  their  support,  or  even  contributing  to  it.  Thus  we  teach 
them  to  avoid  idleness,  and  in  avoiding  idleness  they  avoid  sin. 
Besides,  this  inspires  in  the  poor  a  sort  of  self-respect  which  is  to 
them  a  great  safeguard.  '» Help  yourself  and  heaven  will  help 
you,"  was  a  maxim  Catherine  strongly  inculcated  on  the  healthy 
poor.  SIu)  had  a  special  compassion  for  tliose  who  had  seen  better 
days,  or  were  ashamed  to  make  known  their  indigence.  Such  per- 
Bons  she  always  assisted  and  supplied  witii  work  privately,  anxious 
to  enable  tliem  to  keep  up  some  little  appearance  of  the  respecta- 
bility in  which  they  had  been  reared.  We  are  thus  copious  in  our 
account  of  the  works  of  bcucvoience  in  which  Catlieriue  spent  her 


'^^k: 


LIF.^  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


w 


esman  who  lath 
11  be  no  bette! 
sight  couid  pre" 
CSS  comes  from 
lie  poor  children 
3  of  his  errors, 
lau  do  little  or 
;cs  are  and  ever 
for  us,  for,  "  As 
irethreu,  you  did 
m  if  we  did  not 

the  poor  all  the 
3d  poverty,  and 
ig  ever  sanctified 
i  of  heaven  and 
)rting  her  Divine 
Jll ;  and  the  rev- 
art  has  ever  dc- 
\vhora  the  Jews 
)y  Joseph's  side, 
and  other  imple- 
1  the  holy  hands 
ily  hoarded  relics 
clothe  the  poor, 
honest  means  of 
Thus  we  teach 
>s  they  avoid  sin, 
aspect  which  is  to 
heaven  will  help 
[1  on  the  healthy 
10  had  seen  better 
sjeiice.     Such  per- 
privately,  anxious 
I  of  the  rcspeeta- 
uis  copious  iu  our 
ithcriue  spent  her 


1,  ^ii^J^iAm^. , 


years,  because  we  hope  she  may  become  an  example,  as  she  cer- 
tainly is  a  reproach,  to  many  a  lady  who  has  better  opportunities 
of  aiding  the  poor,  and  more  wealth  at  her  disposal  than  Cath- 
erine had  while  she  resided  at  Coolock-House. 

All  this  time  she  cherished  the  project  of  establishing  a  house 
for  poor  women,  though  unless  a  glimpse  of  the  future  were  vouch- 
safed her,  she  could  hardly  ever  hope  for  its  accomplishment.  The 
beautiful  face  of  the  young  girl  whom  she  had  vainly  sought  to 
rescue,  haunted  her  night  and  day  ;  its  pleading  look  was  imprinted 
on  her  very  soul ;  and  it  was  always  a  fresh  bitterness  to  Ler  to 
think  how  easily  that  poor  lost  sheep  could  have  been  saved.  Fre- 
quently she  would  start  from  her  sleep,  her  dreams  being  so  vivid 
that  she  could  not  at  once  be  certain  they  were  only  dreams. 
Visions  of  mercy  disturbed  her  very  slumbers,  which  no  Joseph 
came  forward  to  interpret.  Now  she  was  surrounded  by  poor 
girls  who  fled  to  her  for  protection  against  a  fate  to  which  the 
most  cruel  death  is  preferable  ;  again  she  was  beside  some  dying 
creature  whom  she  prepared  for  heaven.  Now  hundreds  of  poor 
children  besought  her  to  have  pity  on  thcra  :  again  she  roamed 
through  the  prisons  instructing  those  whom  malice  or  ignorance 
had  placed  withia  their  dismal  walls.  Sometimes  she  wept  and 
sobbed  as  if  in  terror  ;  and  again  her  whole  countenance  assumed 
its  haJjitual  look  of  serenity.  Mrs.  Callahan's  delicacy  having 
made  her  a  confirmed  invalid,  Catherine  now  slept  in  her  chamber  ; 
but  on  these  occasions  her  presence  there  was  a  source  of  pain  and 
anxieiy  to  the  kind-hearted  lady. 

"  Catherine,"  she  would  often  say,  "  I  almost  wish  you  never 
slept.  It  is  frightful  to  see  you.  You  seem  to  suffer  ngoiiy  in- 
stead of  enjoying  repose." 

What  did  these  visions  portend  ?  Were  they  sent  without  a 
purpose,  or  were  they  shadows  of  coming  events,  cast  long  before 
the  hopes  which  they  inspired  could  have  their  realization  ?  Did 
God  thus  manifest  to  her,  as  to  so  many  of  Ilis  sainted  children, 
the  glorious  destiny  to  be  one  day  fulfilled  in  her  ? 

As  the  rising  sun,  wlien  he  peeps  above  the  distant  horizon,  gives 
promise  of  the  noonday  splendor  of  his  all-pervading  brilliancy  ;  as 
the  scarce  perceptible  fragrance  of  the  tiny  rosebud  gives  hope  of 


!  ' 


ll'l 
Hi 


■  .  I 


iW' 


c«.«M|ippppw>i«in' 


'1 1 1  ii<vif0fn;yt!^ 


96 


LIFE   OP  CATHERIITE  MCATTLET. 


the  gorgeous  flower  ;  as  the  silvery  blossoms,  that  deck  with  nn- 
imaginable  beauty  the  fresh  green  trees  of  the  joyous  spring-time, 
bid  us  expect  the  golden  fruits  of  autumn  ; — even  so,  the  virtues, 
the  labors,  the  sufferings,  nay,  the  very  upose  of  Catherine  Mc- 
Auley,  foretold  her  future  greatness.  Faitiiful  over  few  things, 
she  deserved  to  be  placed  over  many. 

During  the  last  two  years  of  her  life,  Mrs.  Callahan  never  left 
her  room.  For  many  a  weary  month  did  Catherine  watch  by  her 
sick-bed,  bestowing  on  her  every  care  filial  Icve  could  suggest. 
Her  eyes  grew  so  weak  that  she  could  scarcely  bear  the  least 
glimmer  of  light,  so  that  her  young  nurse  was  obliged  to  sit  in 
almost  perpetual  darkness.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience,  she 
invented  a  sort  of  shaded  lamp,  which  she  placed  in  a  position  from 
which  its  light  could  not  reach  the  patient.  By  its  dim  rays  she 
read  spiritual  books  while  the  sufferer  slumbered.  Thus,  she  con- 
tinued to  improve  her  stock  of  spiritual  knowledge,  and  in  after- 
life her  intimate  acquaintance  with  catechetical  works,  the  lives  cf 
the  Saints,  and  the  writings  of  the  most  approved  ascetics,  proved 
that  she  had  not  read  in  vain.  Mr,  Callahan  observed  with  anxiety 
her  care-worn  looks  ;  he  often  suggested  that  she  should  see  more 
Bociety,  dress  more  fashionably,  ride  out  more  frequently,  but  she 
invariably  assured  him  that  she  was  quite  content,  and  that  any 
thing  calculated  to  involve  loss  of  her  precious  time  could  not  in- 
crease her  happiness.  It  was  a  subject  of  surprise  to  him  that  a 
young  lady,  handsome  and  accomplished,  should,  of  her  own  choice, 
lead  a  life  so  secluded  and  monotonous.  One  day  he  asked  her 
whether  there  was  any  ihing  on  earth  she  wished  <'or  ?  She  re- 
plied, there  was  not,  unless  it  were  means  of  doing  more  good 
among  the  poor. 

"  But  if  I  were  to  die,  Kitty,  what  would  you  then  do  ?  You 
don't  seem  inclined  to  accept  any  matrimonial  offer." 

She  told  him  she  had  not  thoug'it  of  tiiat  contingency,  but  was 
sure  that  in  any  case  God  would  take  care  of  her. 

"But,  would  you  not  like  to  be  very  rich?"  persisted  the  old 
gentleman. 

•'  Whatever  God  pleases,  Mr.  Callahan,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

The  owner  of  Coolock  House  gazed  with  surprise  on  the  quiet, 


deck  with  nu- 
ns spring-time, 
;o,  the  vivtnca, 
Catherine  Mc- 
er  few  things, 


ihan  never  left 
e  watch  by  her 
eouUl  suggest. 
bear  the  least 
bliged  to  sit  in 
onveuience,  she 
a  position  from 
its  dim  rays  she 

Thus,  she  con- 
ge, and  in  after- 
orks,  the  lives  cf 

ascetics,  proved 
rved  with  anxiety 
should  see  more 
;quenily,  but  she 
nt,  and  that  any 
ime  could  not  in- 
se  to  him  that  a 
)f  her  own  choice, 
lay  he  asked  her 
cd  for?     She  re- 
doing more  good 


er. 


then  do  ?    You 


itingency,  but  was 

persisted  the  old 

the  quiet  reply. 
priFC  on  the  quiet, 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


97 


happy  face  of  his  adopted  child,  and  he  knew  she  spoke  the  senti- 
merrts  of  her  heart.  There  was  something  deep  within  her  which 
he  learned  to  venerate,  though  he  knew  not  what  that  something 
was.  He  had  known  many  a  woman,  old,  young,  or  matare,  but 
he  had  never  known  any  like  the  gentle,  unassuming  girl,  whose 
virtues  made  his  happy  home  brifrhter.  She  was  now  bloommg 
into 

"  A  perfect  woman,  noWy  planned 
To  warn,  to  comfort,  to  commund  ; 
And  yet  a  spirit  stilt  and  bright, 
With  somctliing  of  an  angd's  light." 

And  of  all  who  ever  knew  her,  not  one  appreciated  her  more 
highly  than  the  benevolent,  philosophical  William  Callahan,  who 
staked  his  thousands  and  fens  of  thousands  on  her  virtue,  leaving 
her  his  whole  fortune,  without  a  single  clause  to  limit  her  in  the 
application  of  it. 

One  day  he  suggested  that,  as  her  adopted  father,  he  had  a 
right  to  know  what  she  intended  to  do  with  herself  after  his  death 
He  was  merely  trying  to  find  out  whether  there  was  any  truth  in 
the  report  that  she  intended  to  become  a  nun. 

"  I  think  I  should  take  a  small  house,"  said  she,  "  and  support 
a  few  poor  women,  whom  I  could  instruct  and  teach  to  work." 

Mr.  Callahan,  greatly  amused  at  this  project,  inquired  how  much 
would  support  the  modest  establishment  she  projected. 

The  future  heiress  mused  a  little,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  think  the  interest  of  a  thousand  pounds  would  be  quite 
sufficient." 

"  Catherine,"  said  he,  "  your  dewres  are  very  moderate,  but  if 
ever  you  possess  wealth  you  will  do  good  with  it." 

She  could  not  help  thin!  ing  that  with  a  thousand  pounds,  which 
he  considered  such  a  trifle,  she  could  gladden  the  heart  of  many  a 
widow,  and  warm  the  shivering  limbs  of  many  a  houseless  orphan. 
1  he  poor  w  3re  in  her  thoughts  by  day  and  her  dreams  by  night. 
"  Lord,"  she  would  say,  "  you  know  I  am  unable  to  do  what  you 
seem  to  require  of  rac.  Give  what  thou  oommandest,  and  com- 
mand what  then  pleasest." 


"I 


m 


I,,  ! 


iigi.'i'Hii'.iL.uia 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Conversion  of  Mrs.  Callahan. — Ilcr  dealh. — Iler  husband's  grief. — Rev.  Mr. 

M prescribes  u>ine  as  a  preparation  to  die  well.    The  new  gospellers  anO 

the  old. — Mr.  Callahan's  conversion  and  death.— His  will. — Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Armstrong. — His  disiutercstedaess. 


THE  continual  pressure  of  a  disease  more  wearying  than  pain- 
ful became,  tjftards  the  end,  alrac^t  too  much  for  Mrs.  Callar 
ban.  To  bp""*  h'  r  pains  joyfully,  or  even  gracefully,  was  more 
than  she  attempted,  nor  did  she  find  tolerable  resignation  always 
easy.  If  the  reader  have  known  by  experience  what  it  is  to  endure 
the  restlessness  and  sleepless  nights  of  a  tedious  illness  ;  if  he  longed 
to  rove  through  the  fragrant  meadows,  inhaling  the  invigorating 
breeze,  and  yet  had  not  strength  to  stand  upright ;  if  he  eagerly 
desired  to  gaze  on  the  cloudless  beauty  of  the  blue  canopy  of 
heaven,  and  yet  was  unable  to  open  the  poor  eyes,  which  headache, 
and  heartache,  and  excruciating  neuralgia  conspired  to  dim  forever, 
he  will  not  be  angry  with  our  poor  invalid  for  occasionally  growing 
querulous  and  dispirited.  Her  friends  were  more  grieved  than 
surprised  to  hear  that  physicians  no  longer  entertained  any  hope  of 
her  recovery.  Poor  lady,  she  felt  that  though  her  days  were 
numbered,  her  illness  "Tvould  be  a  protracted  one,  and  she  was 
haunted  with  the  fear  that  her  friends  would  tire  of  her.  Yet  Mr. 
Callahan's  affection  for  the  wife  of  his  youth  never  waned,  and 
no  child  could  love  her  mother  more  ardently  than  Catherine  loved 
the  helpless  invalid,  who  clung  to  her,  and  expected  her,  above  all 
others,  to  soothe  her. 

Morally  good  and  kind  as  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Callahan  were,  Cathe- 
rine knew  that  they  were  scarcely  less  bigoted  than  her  fierce 
brother-in-law ;  nevertheless  she  ceased  not  to  pray,  and  procure 
prayers  and  masses  for  their  conversion.  The  fact  that  she  was  a 
Catholic  they  completely  ignored ;  and  if  her  religion  were  men- 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


99 


s  grief.— Rev.  Mr. 
new  gospellers  ana 
,11 —Very  Bev.  Dr. 


arying  than  pain- 
ch  for  Mrs.  Callor 
cefuUy,  was  more 
•esignation  always 
rhat  it  is  to  endure 
[nessjifhe  longed 
r  the  invigorating 
Jht ;  if  he  eagerly 
he  blue  canopy  of 
es,  which  headache, 
red  to  dim  forever, 
ccasionally  growing 
more  grieved  than 
rtained  any  hope  of 
igh  her  days  were 

one,  and  she  was 
Ire  of  her.    Yet  Mr. 

never  waned,  and 

[ban  Catherine  loved 

,ectcd  her,  above  all 

vllahan  were,  Cathe- 
[ted  than  her  fierce 
lo  pray,  and  procure 
fact  that  she  was  a 
religion  were  men- 


tioned, it  was  only  as  a  subject  of  hatred  or  ridicule.  Mrs.  Calla- 
han belonged  to  a  sect  which  has  given  some  illustrious  converts  to 
the  Church,  but  perhaps  fewer  in  proportion  than  iiny  other.  For- 
getting that  the  greatest  potentates  on  earth  are  Catholics  as  well 
as  the  grandest  families,  she  regarded  Catholicity  as  a  vulgarity, 
and  scornfully  pointed  out  the  poor  Catholic  chapels  then  in  Dub- 
lin as  "  the  servants'  and  beggars'  meeting-houses."  Catherine  had 
often  vainly  tried  to  insinuate  a  little  information  on  this  subject. 
As  soon  as  it  was  broached  the  headache  returned  with  redoubled 
violence,  and  the  invalid  suddenly  remembered  that  the  doctors 
ordered  her  not  to  let  any  thing  excite  her.  Another  might  have 
given  up  in  despair,  but  Catherine  prayed  on,  and  hoped  even 
against  hope. 

One  day  the  sick  lady,  starting  out  of  an  unquiet  slumber,  asked 
her  what  she  was  reading.  Catherine,  hoping  she  would  now  have 
an  opportunity  of  saying  more  on  the  subject,  replied  that  she  was 
reading  a  Catholic  book. 

"  Kittie,"  continued  the  invalid,  "  I  have  often  been  curious  to 
know  what  induced  you  to  ioin  that  vulgar  sect ;  your  friends  were 
all  Protestants." 

"  And  I  would  have  been  only  too  glad  at  any  time  to  satisfy 
your  curiosity,"  said  Catherine ;  after  which  she  gave  a  concise 
account  of  her  early  yeara,  explaining  what  induced  her  to  become 
a  practical  Catholic. 

"But,"  said  Mrs.  Callahan,  "  what  do  Catholics  believe?" 

Catherine  commenced  with  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  and  explained 
with  such  unction  the  sublime  truths  of  her  holy  faith,  that,  like 
Agrippa,  the  attentive  listener  was  "  almost  persuaded"  of  the 
truth  of  what  she  heard.  Yariona  points  of  difference  between 
the  old  Church  and  the  new  were  then  touched  upon.  The  one 
founded  by  Christ,  the  others  by  mere  men ;  the  one  "  believing 
whatever  the  Son  of  God  has  spoken,"*  the  others  denying  the 
truth  of  His  plainest  expressions ;  the  one  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
saluting  Mary  blessed  among  women,  the  others  maintaining  that 
the  Mother  of  God  is  but  an  ordinary  mortal ;  the  one  venerating 

•  <'  Credo  quldquid  dixit  Dal  ¥iii\it."—Adoro  n. 


M  i^vi.r 


100 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


the  Saints,  of  whom  the  Scripture  says,  "  Thy  friends,  O  Lovd.  are 
exceedingly  honorable,"  the  other  denying  to  them  the  honor  freely 
given  to  the  pagan  engcs  and  heroes ;  the  one  declaring  with  the 
Apostle  tliat  "faith  cometh  by  hearing,"  the  other  maintaining 
that  faith  does  not  come  by  hearing,  but  by  reading  the  Bible, 
thougli  but  a  small  fraction  of  the  human  race  can  read.  The  one 
a  fruitful  mother  of  virgins,  apostles,  and  martyrs,  the  mighty 
mistress  of  art  and  science,  whose  zeal  reaches  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  whose  charity  embraces  all  nations,  who  rules  the  world  from 
the  Rock  of  Peter  with  the  tenderness  of  a  mother  and  the  vigi- 
lance of  a  true  shepherd ;  the  other  cramped  and  stunted,  the 
ghost  of  a  Church,  the  barren  fig-tree. 

A  new  wol-Id  had  been  opened  to  the  gaze  of  Mrs.  Callahan,  but 
for  many  weeks  she  was  undecided  as  to  her  future  course.  Cathe- 
rine, with  that  exquisite  tact,  or,  rather,  supernatural  prudence  for 
which  she  was  distinguished,  followed  up  her  advantage,  always 
seizing  the  right  moment,  and  never  obtruding  her  remarks. 

"  I  believe  all  you  say  as  firmly  as  you  do  yourself,"  said  the 
catechumen  one  day,  "  but  I  cannot  receive  baptism  from  a  priest ; 
neither  could  I  promise,  in  case  of  recovery,  to  profess  the  Catholic 
faith  openly." 

Catherine  mildly  suggested  that  her  eternal  salvation  was  at 
stake,  and  showed  her  that,  if  we  have  been  victims  of  human 
respect  all  our  lives,  e  ought  at  least  be  honest  with  God  in  our 
dying  moments,  especially  when  He  gives  that  conviction  which 
He  evidently  intends  to  be  followed  by  conversion. 

"  I  cannot  see  a  priest,"  said  the  lady,  in  great  agitation. 

"  And  why  not  ?"  asked  Catherine.  "  You  are  dying  now,  and 
you  can  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  It  is  not  that — it  is  not  that,"  responded  the  noble  lady,  "  but 
Mr.  Callahan  would  discover  it,  and  he  would  at  once  suspect  that 
you  counselled  the  step.  Now,  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  ruining 
your  prospects." 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  said  Catlicrine,  greatly  relieved,  yet  moved  to 
tears  by  the  affection  of  her  mother.  "  God  will  take  care  of  me. 
I  would  risk  brighter  prospects,  and  even  my  life,  for  your  salva- 
tioQ."    But  Beeiog  that  the  ladjr  still  hesitatedi  she  added :  **  If 


s,  O  Lovd.  are 
he  honor  freely 
larinc?  with  the 
ler  maintaining 
ding  the  Bible, 
read.    The  one 
,rs,  the  mighty 
the  ends  of  the 
3  the  world  from 
her  and  the  vigi- 
md  stunted,  the 

[rs.  Callahan,  but 
e  course.    Cathe- 
ural  prudence  for 
dvantage,  always 
r  remarks, 
yourself,"  said  the 
ism  from  a  priest ; 
rofess  the  Catholic 

i  salvation  was  at 

victims  of  human 

St  with  God  in  our 

t  conviction  which 

on. 

:&t  agitation. 

are  dying  now,  and 

lie  noble  lady,  "  but 

at  once  suspect  that 

to  think  of  ruining 

ieved,  yet  moved  to 

will  take  care  of  me. 

life,  for  your  salva- 

ted,  she  added :  **  1^ 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


101 


possible,  I  will  bring  the  priest  without  Mr.  Callahan's  knowl- 
edge." 

Mr.  Callalian,  who  was  very  active-ininded,  had,  on  his  return 
from  India,  accepted  the  post  of  head  lecturer  on  chemistry  in  the 
Apothecaries'  Hall,  Dublin,  in  order  tiiat  he  might  have  something 
definite  to  occupy  him.  This  involved  certain  absence  from  home 
on  lecture-duys.  On  one  of  tiesc.  Miss  McAuley  rode  to  a  distant 
parish,  and  returned  accompanied  by  Rev.  Dr.  Kcogh,  who  admin- 
istered baptism  to  Mrs.  Callahan,  and  promised  to  return  next 
lecture-day.  Words  cannot  describe  lie  delight  and  gratitude  of 
the  fervent  neophyte.  When  Mr.  Callahan  came  home,  he  was 
surprised  to  find  her  so  happy.  Death  no  longer  had  any  terrors 
for  her — she  even  rejoiced  at  its  approach. 

Two  reasons  induced  Miss  JSIcAuley  to  choose  Dr.  Kcogh  for 
receiving  her  dear  mother  into  the  Ciiurch  :  first,  he  was  an  able 
controversialist,  and  the  convert  might  have  difficulties  to  clear  up 
which  she  did  not  reveal  to  her  instructress  ;  and  next,  he  was  not 
personally  known  to  the  inmates  of  the  house.  She  was  not  then 
aware  that  he  had  a  very  bad  memory.  Mrs.  Callahan  counted 
the  hours  till  the  time  of  his  promised  visit  came,  but  he  did  not 
make  his  appearance.  When  relating  the  particulars  of  this  con- 
version, Mother  McAuley  could  not  refrain  from  tears.  She  used 
to  say  that  Mrs.  Callahan's  ardent  devotion,  her  intense  longing  to 
receive  every  blessing  the  Church  confers  on  her  departing  children, 
her  eager  desire  to  participate  even  once  in  the  Adorable  Sacra- 
ment, would  excite  fervor  in  the  coldest  heart.  Dr.  Keogh  was 
again  sent  for.  He  came  directly,  and  apologized  for  having  foi- 
gottcn  his  former  appointment.  Bending  ov;r  his  penitent,  in 
whom  life  was  almost  extin  *,  he  whispered  softly : 

"  Have  you  been  anxious  vO  see  me  again  ?" 

The  dying  convert,  her  eyes  beaming  with  intense  joy  and  her 
face  flushed  with  happiness,  exclaimed,  with  touching  earnestness  : 

"  Never  was  human  eye  more  anxious  to  look  on  another." 

These  words  were  well  remembered  by  Catherine.  Tlicy  rang 
in  her  ears  long  after  she  who  uttered  them  was  laid  in  the  silent 
grave. 

Dr.  Keogh  heard  her  confession,  and  anointed  her.    He  promised 


■i 


i  5^ 


m' 


--':,,.i.U4Ji^ii-'i-U''Wii»miL-. 


102 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


to  return  with  the  Holy  Yiaticum,  but  he  forgot  his  engftgement, 
or  was  perhaps  prevented  by  otlier  duties  from  attending  to  it,  till 
it  was  too  lute. 

The  day  after  Dr.  Keogli's  second  and  last  visit,  Mr.  Callahan 
asked  whether  she  would  iiavc  some  minister  to  read  to  her  ? 

"  No,  William,"  she  replied,  "  I  want  nothing  of  the  kind.  I 
feel  joyful  in  the  hope  of  being  soon  with  God,  The  last  few  days 
have  been  the  happiest  of  ray  life." 

"  IIow  is  it  that  you  feel  so  happy  now  ?"  he  asked. 

She  smiled,  sweetly,  but  made  no  reply.  In  a  moment  the  death- 
rattle  sounded  ominously  in  his  car,  and  before  five  minutes  the 
spirit  had  returned  to  Him  that  made  it. 

"Can  this  be  death!"  thought  the  bereaved  husband,  as  he 
gazed  on  the  face  of  her  wl'osc  "  youth  had  been  renewed  like  ihe 
eagles.'  "  A  smile  still  rested  on  her  parted  lips,  and  the  awful 
beauty  of  death  seemed  lovelier  than  the  loveliest  thing  in  life. 
No  wonder  that  the  ransomed  soul  did  not  depart  without  leaving 
the  impress  of  its  happiness  on  the  emaciated  features.  She  had 
carried  lier  baptismal  iuuoccnce  to  the  judgment-seat.  Unable  to 
procure  for  her  Catholic  burial,  Catherine  had  Masses  offered  for 
her.Roul,  and  even  contrived  to  put  some  "blessed  clay"  in  her 
coffin. 

Wi.en  Mr.  Callahan  returned  from  the  funeral  of  her  who,  of 
her  sixty-five  years  of  life,  had  been  his  companion  for  fifty,  his 
face  was  haggard  and  his  step  unsteady.  While  r>he  lingered,  the 
excitement  of  seeing  doctors,  and  bestowing  every  little  attention 
that  could  please  or  gratify  her,  had  kept  up  his  spirits,  but  now 
his  home  seemed  lonely  and  deserted  ;  nothing  could  cheer  him. 
The  iron  constitution,  which  the  tropical  sun  of  India  had  not 
injured,  was  soon  incurab'y  affected.  This  was  natural  enough  for 
an  octogenarian,  but  ha  had  been  so  robust  that  Catherine  fondly 
hoped  he  would  live  rr-.any  years,  and  die  without  much  sickness  ; 
dropping  into  the  grave  "  like  ripe  fru't  into  its  mother's  Inp." 
Wlieii  jjiessed  to  consult  new  physicians,  he  replied  that  he  knew 
enough  of  their  science  to  be  certain  that  his  case  was  beyond 
their  skill. 

Rev.  Mr.  M ,  rector  of  a  neighboring  parish,  on  visiting 


I 


'.U. 


::j>Ji,'/f 


engagement, 
ling  to  it,  till 

]SIr.  Callahaa 

to  htr  ? 

'  the  kind.     I 

;  last  few  days 

;d. 

nent  the  death- 

ive  minwtes  the 

ausband,  as  he 
cnewed  like  iho 
and  the  awful 
st  thing  in  life, 
without  leaving 
turcs.     She  had 
■at.     Unable  to 
asses  offered  for 
3cd  clay"  in  her 

nl  of  her  who,  of 
lion  for  fifty,  his 
she  Ungered,  the 
ry  little  attoution 

spirits,  but  now 
could  cheer  him. 
:)f  India  had  not 
atural  enough  for 

Catherine  fondly 
lit  much  sickness  ; 
its  mother's  lap." 

icd  that  lie  knew 

case  was  beyond 

parish,  on  visiting 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


103 


him  was  shocked  to  perceiT"  the  change  a  few  weeks  had  wrought. 
The  invalid,  who  was  beginning  to  have  some  vague  notions  that 
he  ought  to  do  something  for  his  soul,  asked  the  minister  for  some 
advice  as  to  how  he  ought  to  spend  the  short  time  that  remaine>1 
to  him.  But,  ia  order  that  the  response  may  be  fully  appreciated, 
we  must  glance  at  wliat  history  and  tradition  say  of  Irish  parsons 
in  general. 

It  is  well  known  that  nothing  was  left  undone  to  establish  the 
Reformation  in  Ireland,  yet  the  people  continued  Cathohc  almost 
to  a  man.  Penal  laws  made  it  death  to  exercise  the  fimctions  of 
the  priesthood,  but  if  the  people  could  not  have  tneir  own  clergy 
they  were  quite  willing  to  dispense  with  the  ministrations  of  others. 
The  Reformers,  who  ^  rondly  boasted  that  they  had  unshackled 
the  human  intellect,  that  they  were  friends  of  education  and  freedom, 
consigned  to  perpetual  ignorance  those  who  refused  to  adopt  their 
peculiar  views.  "  This  was  the  unkindest  cut  of  all,"  for  Ireland 
had  been  a  nation  of  saints  and  scholars,  and  iu  nil  her  domestic 
wars  never  did  victor  or  vanquished  lay  sacrilegious  hands  on  her 
monasteries,  or  appropriate  her  benefices  ;  tiiis  was  the  work  of  the 
Reformation.  "While  the  restraint  upon  foreign  and  domestic 
education  was  part  of  a  horrible  and  impious  system  of  servitude," 
says  Edmund  Burke,  "  the  members  were  well  fitted  to  the  body. 
To  render  men  patient  under  a  deprivation  of  ul!  the  rights  of 
human  nature,  every  thing  which  could  give  a  knowledge  or  feeling 
of  these  rights  was  rationally  forbidden.  To  render  humanity  fit 
to  be  insulted,  it  was  fit  that  it  should  be  degraded.  Indeed,  I 
have  ever  thougiit  that  the  prohibition  of  the  means  of  improving 
our  rational  nature  is  the  worst  species  of  tyranny  that  insolence 
or  perverseness  ever  dared  to  exercise." 

The  parsonc,  of  course,  had  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  regard 
to  clerical  duties.  Each  wore  his  orthodox  costume,  and  drew  his 
salary,  and  arauseu  himself  as  best  lie  could.  Even  as  late  as  1844, 
notwithstanding  the  influx  (f  Scotch  and  English  settlers,  which 
Irish  emigration  and  the  sales  of  encumbered  estates  produced, 
lliere  were  a  hundred  and  fifty-one  parishes  in  Ireland  that  had  not 
a  single  Protestant.  But,  in  earlier  times,  Dean  Swift's  exordium, 
"  My  dearly  bcbved Roger,"  was  nothing  singular,  for  the 


M 


i;;^13Jl!;^...i.-.i''!!i!^^.    -zn;«e" 


104 


:iFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


2le»'k  alone  was  tlic  actual  representative  of  many  o  "  congregation." 
But  even  if  a  full  house  heard  the  preface,  and  awaited  the  perora- 
tion, the  preacher's  eloquence  was  lost,  for  few  of  the  people  under- 
stviod  English,  and  fewer  still  of  the  ministers  could  speak  Irish. 
It  IB  not  strange  that  men  who  accepted  salaries  for  these  fatiguing 
ministrations  should  not  bear  a  very  high  character  for  apostolic 
virtues. 

Verily,  there  was  a  direct  contrast  between  the  old  gospellers 
and  the  new.  Those  had  come  with  the  riches  of  evangelical 
poverty,  despising  silver  and  gold,*  and  working  miracles  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  while  these  with  brigand  chivalry  de- 
manded your  money  or  your  life  !  Those  had  healed  the  sick, 
raised  the  dead,  and  opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind  ;  while  these 
murdered  the  sons  of  the  widow  for  refusing  to  pay  their  well 
earned  tithes.f  Those  lived  in  the  severe  grandeur  of  apostolic 
austerity  ;  these  revelled  in  the  delightful  but  enervating  influences 
of  domestic  happiness.  Those  covered  the  land  witii  monasteries 
and  schools,  which  gave  gratuitous  support  and  education  to 
students  fron:  all  parts  of  the  world  ;  these  tore  down  the  mon- 
asteries and  made  it  treason  to  teach  in  these  schools.  Those 
preached  to  tens  of  thousands  on  the  green  hills  of  Tara  and  in  the 

•  Said  a  wcnltliy  jirclato  to  St.  Tliornaa  Aquinas :  "  Brother  TliomnB,  we 
cannot  Huy  at)  did  our  prodooessors  in  the  Church — 'Silver  iind  gold  I  linvo 
none.'  "  "No,"  quietly  retorted  the  angclio  doctor,  "uud  neither  can  jou  sny 
to  the  lame—'  Stand  up  and  walU.'  " 

i  Thi»  is  all  niattor  of  history.  Collecting  the  tithes  was  the  only  vnlvo 
through  which  the  pent-up  zeal  of  the  parsons  could  goncrnlly  csciipo.  As  Into 
as  183'2,  n  minister,  whoso  nnn:o  had  as  well  drop  into  oblivion,  ordored  six 
persons  to  be  shot  in  his  prosonco  for  refusing  to  pay  "  the  ministers'  money." 
liii«  happen'  d  neut  Formoy,  on  the  farm  of  Mrs.  Ryan,  a  widow,  who,  for 
dome  reason  or  other,  refused  to  pay  tlio  tithes.  The  parson  gave  the  word, 
"  Are,"  but  it  was  not  until  six  persons  were  killed,  among  whom  were  throe  of 
her  own  sons,  that  the  poor  woman  paid  him  his  fees,  and  in  future  he  might 
take  all  she  hud,  as  far  as  she  was  concerned;  she  was  too  brokuii-heartod  to 
offer  any  resistanoo.  Later  still,  his  Britaniiio  mijesly's  invincible  "  Ilus>ur8" 
wero  employed  in  the  dignined  business  of  ehoi-ing  to  market,  to  sell  for 
"niluisters'  money,"  floeks  of  geese,  Ac,  owned  by  poor  farmers.  These 
feats  certainly  caused  more  laughing  tlian  crying,  even  among  the  poor  people 
who  bewailed  the  loss  of  their  faathored  live-stook,  Ijoe  O'Ned  Ukunl'ii  llintorr 
of  Ireland,  <&o.,  <bo. 


>i4V)J^^.t^(^i, 


MS^ 


"  congregation." 
lited  the  perora- 
iie  people  under- 
ul<l  speuk  Irish. 
I-  tlicse  fatiguing 
ter  for  apostolic 

0  old  gospellers 
!S  of  evangelical 
r  miracles  in  the 
;and  chivalry  de- 
healed  the  sick, 
ind  ;  wliilc  these 
)  pay  their  well 
idcur  of  apostolic 
■rvating  influences 

with  monasteries 
and  education  to 
re  down  the  raon- 
s  schools.  Those 
ofTaraandin  the 

Brother  ThomiiB,  we 
ver  unci  gold  1  liavo 
id  iioithor  can  jou  Bay 

1  was  tlio  only  viilve 
ernlly  escnpo.     A»  Into 

oblivion,  ordered  six 
ho  uiiniKturs'  money." 
m,  a  widow,  wlio,  for 
iirson  pavo  tlio  word, 
n(t  wliom  were  tliroe  of 
and  in  fiitnre  he  might 

too  \)rokon-hcnrtod  to 
H  invinciblo  "  lliis>ar»" 

to  market,  to  sell  for 
■  i)oor  furmorrt.    Tlicse 

iitnong  the  poor  people 
>  O'Neil  Uauut'ii  HiBlory 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


105 


Bacred  groves  of  the  Druids  ;  the  fowls  brooded  unmolested  over 
their  chickens  in  the  pu'pits  of  these. 

The  Irish  peasantry  might  be  very  ignorant,  but  they  had  more 
logic  in  tliem  than  they  always  got  credit  for.  They  might  not, 
perhaps,  know  that  Asers  mother  was  called  Zelpha,  tiiat  Joel 
was  the  name  of  Samuel's  eldest  son,  that  Sephora  was  the  wife 
of  Moses,  or  that  Job  had  a  daughter  called  Cassia  ;  but  they 
knew  how  to  distinguish  the  shepherd  from  the  hireling,  and  they 
judged  the  tree  by  its  fruits.  It  was  a  crime  for  tiiem  to  learn  to 
read  ;  but  tlie  law  did  not  pluck  out  their  eyes,  and  with  these  they 
could  read  much,  thougli  they  never  handled  a  book.  The  way- 
side crosses,  the  holy  wells,  tlie  roofless  churclies,  the  moss-grown 
ruins  that  studded  their  land  by  hundreds  ;— the  ruined  monastery, 
beneath  the  shadow  of  whose  blessed  walls  they  loved  to  lay  their 
cherished  dead ; — all  these  spoke  volumes  to  the  hearts  of  an  im- 
pulsive, warm-hearted  people.  Besides,  the  hunted  priest  often 
stole  in  among  them,  and  cek'brated  mass  in  a  field  or  in  a  cave, 
wliile  their  boys,  from  the  tops  of  trees  and  from  the  neighboring 
hills,  kept  a  steady  lookout,  to  give  warning  of  the  approach  of 
the  "discoverers."  Hence,  after  such  barbarous  and  lengthened  per- 
secution, the  Irish  race  of  to-day  is  as  Catholic  as  St.  Patrick  left 
it  fourteen  centuries  ago. 

But  to  return  to  our  narrative. 

Mr.  Callahan  was  not,  by  any  means,  what  is  termed  a  pioui 
man ;  he  seldom  entered  any  church,  and  the  strongest  religious 
feeling  he  ever  evinced  was  a  negative  one,  consisting  in  intonse 
dislike  for  the  Romish  Church.  But  he  was  a  man  of  high  moral 
worth  and  refined  literary  tastes ;  he  had  a  keen  sense  of  the  fit- 
ness of  things,  whica  made  him  expect  something  like  piety  from 
every  one  whom  the  law  authorized  to  prefix  Revet  end  to  his 
name.  Besides,  he  had  some  shadowy  notions  that  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer  contained  special  instructions  for  the  dying,  and 
ho  naturally  expected  that  a  clergyman  would  be  able  to  expound 
them,  and  assist  him  in  some  innnncr  to  prepare  for  the  awful 
moment,  which  he  knew  could  not  be  far  off.  In  health,  ho  had 
trusted  to  his  moral  rectitude — in  his  last  sickness  he  yearned  for 
something  more. 


hi 


I  81  jTiMfMn  <ttii#J 


106 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


"  What  must  I  do,"  he  asked,  "  to  prepare  well  for  my  passage 
to  eternity  ?" 

Mr.  M.  was  a  jovial,  good-natured  man,  who  never  pretended  to 
any  great  fluency  on  religious  topics.  AiTecting  ;  ct  to  coiupreheud 
the  drift  of  so  plain  a  question,  he  rose,  advanced  towards  the 
dying  man,  who  lay  on  a  sofa  in  the  drawing-room,  and  bending 
over  him  with  affection,  not,  perhaps,  insincere,  he  said  : 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  think  your  only  disease  is  lowness  of  spirits,  and 
you  could  hardly  have  a  worse  one.  Order  up  the  best  wines*  in 
your  cellar,  and  make  free  use  of  them.  This  will  strengthen  j  on, 
and  promote  cheerfulness.     That  is  what  you  want,  my  friend." 

This  reply  to  such  a  question  seemed  shocking  to  Mr.  Callahan. 
With  ill-concealed  annoyance,  he  said  : 

"  I  have  not  consulted  you  on  my  physical  debility,  sir.  These 
matters  I  refer  to  my  physicians.  I  merely  desired  that  you  would 
give  me,  in  my  present  uncertain  state,  some  counsel  as  to  how  I 
ought  to  prepare  for  death.'' 

His  Reverence  looked  thoughtful,  "  would  not  like  to  enter  just 
now  on  such  an  unpleasant  subject,  sorry  his  old  friend  wouldn't 
cheer  up,  we  might  as  well  enjoy  life  while  it  is  given  us ;"  and 
rising  to  make  his  adieux,  promised  to  return  soon.  Catherine,  who 
was  a  quiet  spectator  of  this  interesting  scene,  remarked  on  the 
placid  countenance  of  the  sick  man  an  expression  of  something  not 
unlike  disgust.  She  had  often  wished  to  speak  to  him  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  she  now  felt  that  the  hour  of  grace  could  not 
be  distant.  No  sooner  had  Mr.  M.  retired  than  the  poor  gentle- 
man closed  his  eyes,  a  prey  to  conflicting  emotions.  Sad  and  agi- 
tated, he  recalled  all  ho  had  ever  learned  about  religion,  from  the 
time  he  lisped  the  Lord's  Trayer  at  his  mother's  krec.  But  it 
gave  him  no  comfort.     The  Gospel  seemed  to  him  now  but  a 

*  Tula  BUgKcstion  nbout  tho  "  best  wino"  nniioyod  Mr,  Culluhan  thu  more  as 
lie  wns  a  very  abHtomloim  innii,  wlio  Bcnrccly  over  tuHtcJ  wiiio  himself,  tliongh 
he  kept  what  his  guoiitK  ciilIoU  tliu  best  of  vellun*.  IIo  UitcJ  to  tell  Cittlierine 
thiit  It  wiu)  quite  it  mintuke  to  oiippuso  tliat  tlio  uho  of  alccliolio  liquorx  oould  ho 
prodiiotivo  of  any  good,  or  uiiprudiictivo  of  injury;  and  Iiih  oi>inlon  had  tlie 
inoro  weight,  ns  lio  was  comtiderod  tlie  biist  clieiuist  in  Dublin,  J(d  tilrongly 
rocommeuded  ''well-browod  volToc,"  oh  a  gtimulunt;  but  liad  Catherine  titken 
it  as  liberally  as  ho  prescribed,  her  uerves  hud  uct  becc  os  strong  as  they  wert. 


,iA^-^ 


for  my  passage 

cr  pretended  to 
to  comprehend 
ed  towards  the 
m,  and  bending 
said  : 

5s  of  spirits,  and 
e  best  wines*  in 
strengthen  jou, 
,  my  friend." 
0  Mr.  Callahan. 

lity,  sir.    These 

that  you  would 

iel  as  to  how  I 

ke  to  enter  just 

friend  wouldn't 

given  us;"  and 

Catherine,  who 

emarked  on  the 

:)f  something  not 

:  to  him  of  the 

grace  could  not 

the  poor  gentle- 

.     Sad  and  agi- 

eligion,  from  the 

*8  krec.    But  it 

him  now  but  a 

^iilluhun  thu  inoro  as 
Ana  himself,  tliongh 
icJ  to  toll  Cialicrina 
olic  liquors  ooulil  ho 
liis  opinion  had  the 
ubliii.  l\<i  Biroiigly 
had  Cnthcrlne  tuken 
strong  as  thoy  wer*. 


i^i^Si^ji^gi^sffn'- 


mmmm 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


107 


beautiful  theory,  as  he  asked  himself  whether  the  ministers  who 
professed  to  expound  it  lived  according  to  its  maxiiiis.  If  they  do 
not,  thought  he,  who  can  ?  And  if  no  one  does  or  can,  wlmt  is  it 
all  but  a  fine  speculation  ?  And  after  all  his  rigid  practice  of 
moral  virtue,  his  late  aspirations  after  higher  things,  must  he  die 
with  the  causa  caui^arum*  of  the  heathen  on  his  lips  f 

This  struggle  did  not  escape  Catherine's  penetration.  For  a 
while  she  waa;hed  it  in  silence,  then  she  rose  and  essayed  to  speak, 
but  her  courage  failed.  At  last,  unable  to  conceal  her  emotion, 
she  approache<l,  clasped  his  hands,  sank  on  her  knees  beside  him, 
and,  powerless  to  utter  a  word,  burst  into  tears.  Now,  Catherine 
was  one  of  the  most  undemonstrative  of  human  beings  ;  it  seemed 
impossible  to  ruffle  her  composed  exterior  or  surprise  her  out  of 
her  self  possession ;  so,  when  Mr.  Callahan  saw  this  agitation,  he 
felt  certain  something  dreadful  had  happened.  Soothing  her  with 
gentle  words,  he  begged  she  would  coniide  to  him  the  cause  of  her 
trouble,  but  she  trembled  so  violently  that  he  was  really  frightened. 
When  she  recovered  somewhat,  he  asked,  as  if  pained  by  her  want 
of  confidence  in  him,  whether  he  had  ever  given  her  reason  to  doubt 
the  sincerity  of  his  affection  ? 

"  I  have  loved  you  as  my  own  child,"  said  he,  "  and  why  will 
you  not  trust  me?" 

"  It  is  for  you  that  I  am  troubled,"  she  replied,  A-ith  some  effort. 

*'  What  I  do  you  think  I  am  in  imminent  danger  ?" 

*'  Indeed,  I  do  think  you  in  danger,  sir ;  but  the  danger  of  your 
immortal  soul  is  the  chief  cause  of  my  anxiety." 

"  Be  tranquil,  then  ;  you  have  excited  yourself  unnecessarily. 
Rest  assured  I  will  do  for  my  soul  whatever  is  necessary.  Perhaps 
you  want  me  to  become  a  Catholic,"  he  continued,  with  a  peculiar 
smile,  which  meant — "  You  might  as  well  try  to  turn  me  into  a 
Brahmin  or  Maiiometan." 

Not  in  the  least  daunted,  Catherine,  whose  tears  were  now  dried 
up,  candidly  replied  :  "  Nothing  less  will  satisfy  me,  sir." 

"  Whether  I  am  convinced  or  not  ?"  objected  Mr.  Callahan.    "  I 


*  "  I  ooterad  this  world  in  sin ;  I  have  lived  in  anxiety  ;  I  depart  in  pertorbA- 
tion.    Cause  of  Ouusos,  pity  m«    '—Said  to  be  Aristotle's  lost  words. 


I II 


Il*i 


108 


LIFE  OP  CATHEniNE  MCAULET. 


cannot,  then,  gratify  you.  Ynn  must  convert  mo  first."  And  here 
the  nrch  smile  ajraiu  played  about  his  lips,  as  though  such  a  C03- 
versioii  were  an  impi)ssil)ility. 

ijhe  expatiated  on  the  happiness  and  peace  he  would  f(:el  on  be- 
coming a  child  of  the  Catholic  Caurch  ;  which  she  could  the  more 
easily  do,  as  lie  had  not  concouled  from  her  the  terrible  agitation 
which  had  lately  begun  to  torment  hira.  As  she  had  a  profound 
respect  for  his  great  learning,  and  felt  timid  of  attempting  to  ia- 
struci  him,  she  begged  that  be  would  see  a  priest.  Merely  to 
gratify  her,  he  consented  to  sec  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Armstrong,  but 
simi)ly  as  a  visitor. 

He  received  Father  Armstrong  with  great  politeness,  listened 
to  his  explanations  with  marked  attention,  and,  of  his  own  accord, 
entreated  that  he  would  be  good  enough  to  repeat  his  visit  at  his 
earliest  conveu'ence.  Dr.  Armstrong  was  the  first  priest  he  bad 
ever  conversed  with  ;  and  the  dignity  of  his  bearing,  the  benevo- 
lence of  his  countenance,  and  his  gentle,  unassuming  air,  made  a 
most  favorable  impression.  He  was  at  this  time  Catherine's  con- 
fessor, and,  at  her  request,  many  a  prayer  he  had  offered  for  the 
conversion  of  her  adopted  father. 

On  Dr.  Armstrong's  second  visit,  Mr.  Callahan  asked  many 
qnestioriB,  and  proposed  many  doubts.  Obstacles  which  he  had 
hitherto  thought  insurmountable  ceased  to  be  such  when  presented 
in  a  difterent  light  from  that  in  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
consider  them.  There  was  now  no  motive  for  doing  violence  to  his 
conviction,  '^o  self-interest  to  dispute  the  supremacy  of  conscience. 
There  never  had  been  any  link  to  bind  him  to  error,  otherwise  than 
the  persuasion  that  error  was  truth,  and  when  that  link  was  broken, 
its  hold  upon  his  mind  was  lost  forever.  He  was  received  into  the 
Church  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Armstrong,  and  spent  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  almost  a  year,  in  me  fervent  exercise  of  every  virtue  he  could 
practise  on  his  bed  of  sickness. 

Concluding  his  account  of  this  remarkable  conversion,  at  which 
we  have  merely  glanced.  Very  Rev.  Dominic  Murphy  says  : 

"  The  circinnstances  of  his  birth  and  position  in  society,  and  not 
any  obduracy  ou  his  own  part,  had  hitherto  excluded  him  from  the 
true  Church.    But  now  tho*,  all  obstacles  were  overcome,  who  can 


,«;n»ti,iiij5a««n 


msi  •■  w  "T'ln  '-^'»?a^H'*^^"^'' 


And  here 
such  a  C03- 

i  ffccl  on  be- 
ild  tlie  more 
)le  agitation 
a  profound 
ipting  to  in- 
Merely  to 
nstrong,  but 

less,  listened 
own  accord, 
is  visit  at  his 
iriest  he  had 
,  the  benevo- 
;  air,  made  a 
theriue's  con- 
ffered  for  the 

asked  many 
rhich  he  had 
len  presented 
ccustomed  to 
iolence  to  his 
of  conscience, 
therwisc  than 

[  was  broken, 

!ved  into  the 
attainder  of  his 

rtue  he  could 

sion,  at  which 
says  : 

iety,  and  not 
him  from  the 

ome,  who  oui 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCaULET. 


109 


tell  the  feelings  of  Miss  McAulcy  when  she  saw  that  her  prayers, 
her  solieitutlc,  licr  untirirg  exertions  in  his  behalf,  were  crowned 
with  such  complete  success,  when  she  saw  him,  as  a  member  of  the 
Church,  receive  the  holy  sacraments  wit!i  heartfelt  devotion?" 
Truly  it  was  no  wondt-r  that  she  had  such  firm  faitli  in  the  efficacy 
of  prayer  ;  she  had  asked  and  obtained  wonderful  things  of 
God. 

Catherine,  in  relating  the  history  of  Mr.  Callahan's  conversion, 
used  to  give  several  touching  instances  of  his  deep  appreciation  of 
the  mercy  God  had  done  him  in  calling  him  to  the  truth.  A  few 
necks  before  he  died,  he  suddenly  asked  her  why  she  had  let  Mrs. 
Callahan  die  without  making  some  cflfort  to  Instruct  her ;  '  /or  you 
know,"  said  he,  "  that  she  was  not  even  baptized."  A  bright  light 
had  flashed  on  his  own  soul,  and  he  longed  to  communicate  some 
portion  of  its  lustre  to  her  he  had  loved  so  well.  How  delighted 
Catherine  was  to  be  able  to  inform  him,  that,  for  once,  she  had 
brought  a  person  to  his  house  without  his  knowledge,  and  that  per- 
son was  a  Catholic  priest. 

"  That,  then,"  said  he,  "  was  the  secret  of  her  happiness,"  and 
he  listened  with  gratitude  and  delight  to  the  particulars  of  her 
conversion.  He  felt  so  grateful  for  the  assiduous  attentions  of  Dr. 
Armstrong,  that  he  offered  him  a  large  sum  of  money  to  mark  his 
appreciation  of  his  kindness,  but  the  holy  man  refused  to  accept 
any  remuneration  ;  and  it  was  wiLh  difficulty  he  was  prevailed  on 
to  receive  a  trifle  for  the  poor  :  a  disinterestedness  which  greatly 
edified  his  penitent. 

On  the  11th  of  November,  1822,  William  Callahan,  fortified  by 
the  last  sacraments,  ot  peace  with  God  and  man,  and  consoled  mth 
the  hope  of  a  blessed  eternity,  fell  asleep  in  the  Lord.  His  will 
declared  his  adopted  daughter,  Catherine  Callahan*  McAuley,  his 
sole  heiress.  He  left  her  absolute  mistress  of  his  wealth,  without 
even  expressing  a  wish  as  to  how  it  should  be  disposed  of.     "  She 

•  V.'o  irniy  remark  here  tlint  C'utlicrine  never  uscii  the  nntne  Callahan  except  in 
legiil  bnsinosB  coniieoteJ  with  this  *ill.  Neither  ilij  she  use  hor  secoiiil  b«p- 
[isinul  iiniiio,  Elizabeth^  whiuli  we  learned  from  her  ));od-clul<'.  Her  letters,  be- 
ibro  her  profession,  were  signed,  "  Catherine  MoAuloy ;  and  after  that  eveat^ 
"  Mnry  Catherine  MoAuUv." 


ill 


J^ 


■Mi 


110 


LIFE  OF  CATHKBINE  MCAULBT. 


will  do  good  with  it,"  said  ho  to  Father  Armstrong  •  p.nd  so  she  did ; 
much  more  than  either  coiild  anticipate. 

There  can  scarcely  be  a  higher  encomium  passed  on  her  tlian 
that  implied  in  the  fact,  that  a  man  like  Mr.  Calbhaii  sliouki  in- 
trust her  in  so  unlimited  a  manner  with  immense  wealth.  Not 
every  woman  could  bear  this  elevation  as  she  bore  it ;  many  who 
have  great  virtues  in  adversity,  or  in  a  subordinate  position,  be- 
come remarkable  for  the  contrary  vices  in  prosperity,  or  when 
placed  in  authority. 


''4w>Wi««!*11««*S*»4i?^%i«i5*'»««»**^^ 


tti^ 


so  she  did ; 

an  lier  than 
i  shoulc!  ia- 
eallh.  Not 
;  many  who 
position,  bc- 
ty,   or  wheQ 


CHAPTER    IX. 

•  CaUieiinc's  fortmie.— Iler  cliuritics.— Donth  of  licr  only  sister.— Dr.  Williotim* 
grid". — An  •exciting  scene. — Catherine'u  midnight  gortio. — The  Buntinela.— 
The  reccnv     ation. — Her  hair  bceomcs  "  gray,  but  not  witli  yeurg." 

THIRTY  thousand  pounds  in  the  Bank  of  Irtland,  six  hundred 
a 'year  in  perpetuity,  Coolock  House  with  its  appendages, 
jewels,  plate,  etc.,  the  exact  value  of  which  Catherine  herself  ncyer 
ascertained,  and  several  policies  of  life  insurance,  were  the  prin- 
cipal items  of  Catherine's  fortune.  Riches  did  not,  however,  work 
the  least  change  in  her  ;  or,  rather,  in  her  new  positions,  she 
dressed  more  plainly  than  ever,  was  more  assiduous  in  visiting  the 
sick,  and  more  frequent  in  her  attendance  at  church.  She  kept 
perfectly  quiet  as  to  the  exact  amount  of  her  wealth.  Several  old 
debts,  arrears  of  rent,  und  a  few  policies  of  hfe  insurance,  she 
never  claimed,  for  she  was  too  kind-hearted  to  press  those  who" 
were  unable  to  pay,  and  she  had  a  horror  of  going  to  law  with 
such  as  were  unwilling.  In  this  she  showed  uncommon  prudence. 
Had  she  made  much  noise  about  these  debts,  she  had  only  involved 
herself  in  expensive  litigation,  and  perhaps  risked  the  loss  of  her 
whole  property. 

Henceforth  there  was  no  more  merrymaking  in  Coolock  House. 
When  Catherine  became  its  mistress,  she  followed  that  sublime  ad- 
vice :  "  When  thou  makest  a  banquet,  invite  not  thy  friends  and 
neighbors,  lest  they,  in  their  turn,  invite  thee,  and  thou  receive  thy 
reward  ;  but  call  thither  the  poor,  the  blind,  and  the  lame,  and 
thou  shalt  be  happy,  because  they  have  not  wherewith  to  repay 
thee."  She  now  devised  a  regular  system  of  distributing  food  and 
clothing  ;  and  her  god  child,  who  is  still  living,  tells  us  that  these 
were  daily  dispensed  to  the  needy,  at  the  'House,'  where  she  then 
lived  with  her  saintly  god-mother,  who  tbas  early  sought  to  inspire 
her  with  compassion  for  the  poor. 


f   3'! 


■n  S':l 


g^- 


112 


LIFE  OF   CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


In  one  of  the  miserable  abodes  of  Liffey-street,  Catherine  dis- 
covered an  old  woman,  a  Protestant  of  good  family,  who,  in  some 
terrible  domestic  affliction,  had  completely  lost  her  reason.  She 
brought  her  home  and  kept  her  till  her  death,  five  years  later. 
This  poor  idiot  or  innocent  gave  her  much  to  suffer.  With  a  per- 
versity common  in  her  disease,  she  conceived  an  absolute  hatred 
for  her  benefactress  ;  and  her  habits  were  such  as  to  make  her 
somewhat  troublesome  in  a  household.  Among  other  peculiarities 
she  had  an  inveterate  dislike  to  soup  and  water  applications,  and  a 
custom  of  stealing,  through  mere  wantonness,  every  thing  she  could 
lay  hands  on.  Im  other  respects  she  was  harmless,  and  Catherine 
humored  her  as  much  ,is  possible,  and  would  not  permit  Ihe  ser- 
vants to  tease  her,  Si>e  would  not  hear  of  sending  her  to  a  lu- 
natic asylum,  lest  she  might  recover,  and  be  shocked  at  not  finding 
herself  among  her  friends.  But  the  faintest  gleam  of  reason 
never  returned. 

For  some  time,  Mary  McAuley's  health  had  been  failing ;  but 
those  who  loved  her  refused  to  see  the  inroads  of  disease,  though 
the  deadly  fibres  of  cancer  were  stealthily  spreading  through  her 
delicate  frame,  and  her  lungs  were  being  slowly  coughed  away. 
Catherine,  her  constant  nurse,  perceiving  ere  long  the  hopelessness 
of  her  condition,  anxiously  sought  an  opportunity  of  reminding 
her  of  the  faith  of  her  fathers,  which  she  had  entirely  renounced  at 
the  nnptial  altar.  Fearing  that  this  precious  soul  might  otherwise 
be  lost,  she  requested  a  consulting  physician,  a  friend  of  hers,  to 
prescribe  change  of  air,  which  he  did.  But  her  husband  would 
not  hear  of  this,  because  his  professional  duties  would  not  admit  of 
his  accompanying  her,  while  her  brother  maintained  :hat  the  benefit 
she  would  gain  must  be  neutralized  by  the  fatigue  of  removing. 
After  some  discussion,  their  objections  were  overruled  by  the  in- 
valid herself,  who,  buoyed  up  with  the  false  hopes  usually  attendant 
on  her  disease,  insisted  on  giving  herself  a  last  chance  of  recovery. 
A  house  was  taken  at  Stillorgan,  and  thither  the  female  part  of 
the  McAuley  famUy  repaired,  the  doctors  promising  to  rioe  out 
daily  to  visit  them. 

Though  Mary  was  never  bigoted,  her  affections,  associations,  and 
prejudices  were  all  Protestant.     Too  kind-hearted  to  share  her 


1^3?W'S9¥^!^BWTOife*3lSW(!!iflB8iSWSlP'" 


:herine  dis- 
10,  ID  some 
ason.  She 
fears  later. 
t^ith  a  per- 
lute  hatred 
I  make  her 
jcculiarities 
:ioiis,  and  a 
g  she  could 
1  Catherine 
lit  Ihe  ser- 
icr  to  a  la- 
not  finding 
of  reason 

failing;  but 
;ase,  though 
through  her 
ghcd  away, 
hopelessness 
f  reminding 
enounced  at 
it  otherwise 
I  of  hers,  to 
sband  would 
lot  admit  of 
it  the  benefit 
)f  removing, 
i  by  the  in- 
ly attendant 

of  recovery, 
nale  part  of 

to  riae  out 

ciations,  and 
o  share  her 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


113 


husband's  bitterness,  she  not  the  less  firmly  clung  to  his  persuasion. 
She  was  exceedingly  attached  to  him,  and  would  not  for  worlds 
displease  him.  In  time,  however,  Catherine's  prayers  and  instruc- 
tions overcame  all  obstacles,  and  she  had  the  inexpressible  conso 
lation  of  hearing  ner  beloved  sister  express  her  intention  of  return- 
ing to  the  faith  of  her  parents  :  "  But,"  said  she,  "  it  must  be  done 
without  causing  any  disturbance  in  my  family,  for  if  William  knew 
it,  he  would  cut  off  all  communication  between  you  and  my  chil- 
dren." Catherine  instructed  her  for  her  first  confession  and  com- 
munion, and  brought  to  her  Rev,  Mr.  McCormack,  parish  priest  of 
Dundrum,  who  administered  to  her  the  holy  sacraments.  She  sur- 
vived her  reconciliation  only  three  weeks.  Before  she  died,  she 
told  her  sister  that  the  thought  that  all  her  children  were  Pro- 
testants sorely  grieved  her.  Catherine  promised  to  be  a  mother  to 
these  children  :  "But,"  said  she,  "you  had  better  acquaint  Mary 
Teresa  with  your  secret,  and  instruct  her  to  obey  mo  when  you  are 
gone."  This  was  the  eldest,  a  beautiful,  delicate  girl  of  fifteen,  who 
was  immediately  called  in. 

"  Mary  Teresa,"'  said  the  dying  mother,  "  I  want  to  speak  to 
you  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  before  I  go."  The  poor  child  hid 
her  face  in  the  pillows,  and  wept  passionately ;  but  the  dying  lady 
almost  eteruly  bade  her  restrain  her  tears,  and  listen  attentively 
to  her  mother's  last  words.  "I  am  dying,"  she  continued,  "and 
cannot  have  many  hours  to  live.  You  have  ever  been  a  dutiful 
child  ;  you  have  never  disobeyed  me  in  any  thing.  I  will  intrust 
yoa  with  a  secret  which  you  must  not  reveal  till  your  Aunt  gives 
you  permission.  It  is,  that  I  die  a  child  of  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church.  I  must  leave  you  before  I  have  time  to  instruct  you,  but 
your  Aunt  will  take  my  place  ;  obey  her  as  you  have  obeyed  me, 
and  teach  your  brothers  and  sisters  to  do  the  same.  Be  ever  af- 
fectionate and  respectful  to  your  fathef  ;  ht  is  a  good  father.  Pray 
for  him,  do  all  you  can  to  please  him  ;  but,  should  he  require  any 
thing  inco||sistent  with  your  duty  to  God,  your  conscience  will 
teach  you  how  to  act."  The  afflicted  girl  having  promised  all  that 
was  requu'ed,  Mrs.  McAuley  continued  :  "It  will  make  you  happy 
for  life  to  know  that  you  removed  the  only  anxiety  your  dying 
mother  bad.'-' 


*  PI' 


If 


"^-'Mm^^^:^ 


^iSjflSgMISf?*'" 


lU 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


Next  day,  Mary  McAuIey  expired  in  the  arms  of  her  beloved 
sister  ;  and  deeply  as  tliat  sister  felt  this  terrible  blow,  she  ex- 
claimed in  tiic  midst  of  her  anguish,  "The  Lord  gave  her,  and  He 
has  taken  her  away.  Blessed  forever  be  His  adorable  nanric  I'' 
Years  after,  she  wrote :  "  The  tomb  never  seems  to  be  closed  in 
my  regard,"  and  during  her  whole  life,  she  could  scarcely  point  to 
any  period  in  which  she  was  not  either  mourning  for  some  one  just 
gone,  or  assisting  some  other  to  die  well ;  but  of  all  the  dear 
friends  w!;ose  eyes  she  closed,  the  dearest  was  this  only  sister. 
Dr.  William  McAuley  did  not  imitate  the  resignation  of  his  sister- 
in-law  ;  he  seemed  quite  unable  to  control  his  grief.  While  his 
gentle  wife  lay  in  silent  loveliness  before  him,  he  could  hardly  be- 
lieve she  was  indeed  no  more.  That  face,  lovely  in  life,  was  heaven- 
ly in  death.  That  brow,  on  which  frown  never  gathered,  was  open 
and  candid  as  ever  ;  but  the  dark,  lustrous  eye  was  closed,  and 
the  tones  of  her  gentle  voice  were  hushed  forever.  To  him  she 
had  been  every  thing  ;  to  his  children  a  devoted  mother  ;  he  had 
never  noticed  any  thing  like  a  fault  in  her ;  and  now,  was  she  indeed 
gone— would  she  return  no  more  to  brighten  his  home  ?  He  knelt 
by  her  precious  remains,  but  it  was  long  before  his  agony  found 
vent  in  tears.  And  when  the  scalding  tears  did  gush  from  the 
eyes  of  that  strong,  proud  man,  he  might  have  exclaimed  as  did 
Louis  XIV.  when  he  wept  over  his  virtuous  queen*  :  "  Alas,  these 
are  the  first  tears  she  ever  caused  me  to  shed  I " 

Catherine,  concealing  her  own  grief,  vainly  tried  to  console  him  : 
his  professional  duties  afforded  little  distraction,  he  became  moody 
and  morose,  so  that  his  children  feared  and  avoided  him.  He  soon 
perceived  that  their  Aunt  was  already  gaining  a  mother's  place  in 
their  affections  :  this  made  him  almost  jealous,  and  he  grew  so 
cross  and  peevish  that  it  was  no  agreeable  thing  to  be  his  guest. 
Catherine,  who  could  not  blame  him  for  grieving  over  such  a  wife, 
bore  with  unalterable  sweetness  the  many  unkind  things  he  said  in 
his  fretful  moods.  He  had  always  something  dreadfi^  to  say  of 
the  Papists.  Catherine,  in  alluding  to  the  events  which  followed 
her  sister's  death,  used  to  remark  that  she  never  in  all  her  inter- 

*  Maria  Teresa,  Qf  Spain. 


*^i- 


^wJ^'S^I^^MIW!!  Ijt  |IMM«f<i^A£^iSi£(^S(|j^^ 


i 


mamM 


ler  beloved 
)w,  she  ex- 
ler,  and  He 
jle  name  1'' 
e  closed  in 
,'ly  point  to 
ime  one  just 
11  the  dear 
only  sister, 
jf  his  sister- 
While  his 
1  hardly  be- 
was  hcaven- 
;d,  was  opf^n 
closed,  and 
To  him  she 
lier  ;  he  had 
.s  she  indeed 
?     He  knelt 
agony  found 
sh  from  the 
limed  as  did 
Alas,  these 

onsole  him  : 

came  moody 

He  soon 

■'s  place  in 

le  grew  so 

)e  his  guest. 

such  a  wife, 

<rs  he  said  in 

i^  to  say  of 

ich  followed 

1  her  inter- 


1. 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


115 


course  with  Protestants  met  any  one  who  could  at  all  approacn  her 
brother-in-law  in  hatred  of  Catholicity.  In  him  this  seemed  to  be 
inherent,  not  acquired  ;  a  degree  or  two  more  added  to  its  intensity, 
and  it  would  be  madness. 

One  niglit,  a  few  weeks  after  Mary's  death,  az  the  family  were 
assembled  around  tlie  drawing-room  fire,  he  <  ornmenccd  an  unusu- 
ally terrible  onslaught  on  Catholic  doctrines,  which  was  but  a  very 
lergelic  repetition  of  the  ordinary  calumnies  which  five  minutes' 
reference  to  the  child's  catechism  would  prove  to  be  the  result  of 
ignorance  or  malice,  on  the  part  of  those  who  utter  them.  Now 
as  the-se  scenes  were  of  far  too  frequent  occurrence,  considering 
the  presence  of  five  children,  Catherine  felt  that  to  remain  silent 
would  be  to  impugn  the  known  truth,  and  determined  to  show  him 
that  if  he  persisted  in  introducing  these  topics,  she  would  be  under 
the  necessity  of  saying  something  calculated  to  counteract  the  bad 
impressions  such  calumnies  were  capable  of  making  on  the  tender 
minds  of  the  listeners. 

"  If  you  believe  what  you  say,  William,"  said  she,  "  your  igno- 
rance of  our  creed  is  surprising  ;  and  if  you  do  not  believe  it  or 
cannot  prove  it,  the  case  is  no  better." 

"  You  do  not  know  half  the  doings  of  thes"  wicked  priests," 
said  ho ;  "  if  you  did,  you  would  not  stay  an  hour  in  their  hatefol 
communion." 

"  Whatever  I  know  about  my  Church,  William,"  said  she,  "  yea 
know  nothing  about  it.  Is  it  not  unmanly  and  ungenerous  to  con- 
demn without  giving  the  accused  any  chance  of  defence  1  You  are 
not  acquainted  with  a  Catholic  but  myself,  you  have  never  read  a 
Catholic  book,  and  yet  you  imagine  you  know  more  about  our 
creed  than  we  do  ourselves."  - 

The  conversation  grew  warmer.  "  One  thing,"  said  he,  "  I  wish 
you  to  bear  in  mind  ;  it  is  this  :  that  while  I  place  implicit  confi- 
dence in  your  good  sense  and  charity,  I  entirely  disagree  with  you 
en  the  subject  of  religion,  and  I  warn  you  to  beware  of  interfering 
with  the  religion  of  my  children." 

"  I  have  used  no  influence  with  them,"  she  replied,  but  the  legiti- 
mate influence  of  example.    If  they  choose  to  accompany  me  to 


ii  H- 


l!  W 


uima 


\ 


iii#iMi|iimi>i .  yiMifiaTf»ir-mWimf^<.-Sij(ityir<>Jiteiijiii«l»« 


^■r 


116 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


church,  it  is  not  my  duty  to  prevent  them.  On  the  contrary,  I 
pray  incessantly  for  their  conversion  and  for  yours." 

He  continued  to  repeat  the  oft-refuted  cahimuies  about  "  the 
ignorance  in  which  the  Romisli  Thureli  strives  to  keep  people,"  the 
"  corruption  of  the  clerfry,"  the  "  vices  of  the  Religious  Orders," 
and  it  wts  useless  for  Catherine  to  remind  him  that  the  govern- 
ment, not  the  Catholic  Church,  was  accountable  for  the  ignorance 
of  so  man^  in  his  poor  country  ;  that  Religious  Orders  approved 
by  the  Church  for  the  education  of  youth  or  some  other  work 
glorious  to  God  and  useful  to  society,  could  not  be  what  he 
imagined  ;  and  that  if  the  clergy  were  so  very  corrupt,  it  was 
strange  that  neither  he  nor  his  brother  Orangemen,  with  all  their 
vigilance,  could  lay  any  thing  definite  to  their  charge. 

Children  arc  good  jjhysiognomists,  better  than  shrewd  men  and 
women,  sometimes.  Tlie  Doctor's  cliildren  read  rage  in  his  coun- 
tenance, and  they  nestled  closely  around  their  aunt.  Rising  up, 
he  fiercely  exclaimed  : 

"  You  know  well  that  Catholics  are  not  what  you  would  make 
them  out."  And  then  havirg  renewed  his  arguments  as  though 
he  would  make  np  by  amplification  for  what  they  wanted  in 
strength,  he  concluded  thus  : 

"  There  was  your  own  sister.  Every  one  knows  she  was  a  true 
Christian,  yet  she  detested,  slie  abhorred,  she  loathed  the  vile  sect 
to  which  you  cling  in  spite  of  all  who  love  you." 

"William,"  said  she  mildly,  "  pardon  me,  you  are  mistaken.  My 
sister  was  baptized  a  Catholic,  our  parents  were  Catholics,  our 
ancestors  as  well  as  yours  were  Catholics.  Mary  was  ignorant 
of  our  religion,  but  she  never  haled  it.  Asj/o?ir  wife  o..e  could  not 
speak  in  its  favor,  but  she  was  born  a  Catholic,  William,  and  she 
died  a  Calholic." 

The  Doctor's  anger  now  amounted  to  frenzy,  his  face  became 
white,  black,  and  purple,  by  turns,  and  passion  produced  a  tem- 
porary suspension  of  reason.  Darting  a  terrible  look  at  his  now 
frightened  sister,  he  roared  rather  than  spoke  : 

"  Did  you  make  Mary  die  a  Papist  T 

Then,  with  horrible  oaths,  he  added  : 

"  You  will  never  leave  my  houso  alive." 


•■vJ'^fv's;*? 


contrary,  I 

about  "  the 
people,"  the 
3US  Orders," 
the  govern- 
lie  ignorance 
3rs  approved 

other  work 
be  what  he 
nipt,  it  was 
rith  all  their 

;wd  men  and 

!  in  his  coun- 

Rising  up, 

would  make 
ts  as  though 
jy  wanted  in 

was  a  true 
the  vile  sect 

istakcn.  My 
atholics,  our 
vas  ignorant 
.0  could  not 
iam,  and  she 

"ace  became 
need  a  tem- 
at  his  now 


1 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


117 


As  he  rushed  wildly  from  Catherine,  she  remembered  with  terror 
that  there  was  a  keen,  highly-polished  dagger  among  the  regalia  he 
was  accustomed  to  wear  at  Orange  processions,  and  if  that  were 
not  forthcoming,  a  scalpel  would  suffice.  There  was  that  in  his  oye 
which  showed  that  he  could  and  would  use  it,  though  his  life  were  the 
price  of  his  temerity.  She  fled  with  the  utmost  precijjitation,  and 
had  scarcely  done  so,  when  he  returned,  sword  unsheathed,  and 
sought  her  among  the  terrified,  screaming  children  and  servante. 
After  a  fruitless  search  through  tho  house,  he  returned  to  the 
drawing-room,  still  muttering  dark  threats  of  vengeance.  His 
favorite  child  had  fainted,  and  her  recovery  was  very  slow.  When 
consciousness  returned,  she  started  up  wildly,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Where  is  my  aunt  ?    Papa,  you  have  not  murdered  my  aunt  ?" 

The  Docto'  whose  rage  was  now  beginning  to  subside,  was  thank- 
ful that  his  sword  was  unstained  with  blood,  and  assuring  the  child 
that  she  was  srafe,  begged  that  she  would  retire  to  rest. 

"  Never,"  cried  the  noble  girl,  "  till  you  pledge  me  your  word  of 
honor  that  you  will  not  injure  my  aunt." 

llie  Doctor  pledged  his  word,  and  Mary  Teresa  left  him.  Reason 
was  now  slowly  resum.ng  its  sway.  He  thought  of  his  departed  wife, 
of  her  intense  love  for  that  only  sister  for  whose  blood  ho  had  thirsted, 
and  from  whom  his  family  had  experienced  such  unceasing  kindness. 
He  thought  of  other  things,  too,  and  overpowered  with  conflicting 
emotions,  he  knelt  down  and  sobbed  like  a  child.  From  that  night 
till  the  night  of  his  death,  he  never  broached  the  topic  of  religion. 

Meanwhile  Catherine,  as  soon  as  she  recovered  from  her  fright, 
found  herself  running,  she  knew  not  whither,  along  the  military 
road,  a  district  in  which  few  ladies  would  venture  even  by  day 
without  an  escort,  as  it  was  constantly  paraded  by  sentries  and 
retired  oflBcers.  Robed  in  a  loose  dressing-gown,  her  head  uncov- 
ered, her  feet,  which  were  greatly  swollen  from  the  fatigue  of 
nursing  her  dying  sister,  were  protected  from  the  inclemency  of  that 
bleak  midnight  by  loose  slippers  worn  without  stockings  ;  it  is  not 
easy  to  conjecture  how  a  lady  with  her  iiigh  notions  of  propriety 
must  have  felt  in  such  a  predicament.  Afterwards,  she  often 
expressed  her  astonishment  that  she  did  not  drop  dead  from  mere 
terror  and  fatigue.    The  martial  tread  of  the  soldier  on  duty  waa 


ill 


i!-a 


w 


mn 


— .j^i.i)ri^«-»if.»ii,i»i,-j»-jiiMrWii:--;-W«lW||^ 


118 


LITE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


the  only  sound  that  disturbed  the  solemn  stillness,  yet  imagining 
she  heard  tlie  furious  plivsiciaii's  footsteps,  slie  rushed  forward 
heedless  of  couscriuences.  The  darkness  of  the  nigiit  a;id  the 
insultinfr  language  of  strangers  seemed  less  terrible  than  the  vio- 
lence of  th«  frenzied  man  from  whom  she  fled.  Tiie  gate  leading 
to  the  city  was  closed,  and  when  hailed  with  the  Qui  vive  Id  of  the 
sentiuel,  she  feared  she  should  have  to  finish  the  night  in  a  military 
guard-house,  to  which  indeed  he  offered  to  escort  her.  She  told 
him  that  her  appearuncc  on  the  road  at  such  a  time  had  been 
caused  by  u  passing  domestic  calamity,  and  asked  him  to  allow  her 
to  pass  to  the  house  of  her  friend,  Surgeon  Cusack,  who  lived  hard 
by.  Awed  by  an  iudescril)ablo  something  which  enlisted  his  sympa- 
thy, while  appearances  were  so  dubious,  the  rough  l)Ht  kind-hearted 
veteran  became  her  friend  on  the  spot,  and  having  conducted  her 
to  the  end  of  his  patrol,  shouted  "  holloa"  to  a  distant  brother  in 
arms,  who  answered  in  prson.  * 

«'  See  this  lady  safe  to  Surgeon  Cusack,"  said  the  sentry,  while 
cautiously  avoiding  a  breach  of  discipline,  he  moved  not  a  step 
beyond  his  "  walk." 

The  newly  arrived  cast  an  ominous  glance  at  the  "lady,"  then 
muttering  something  about  obliging  a  comrade,  he  conducted  her 
to  the  steps  of  the  Surgeon's  mansion,  and  bowed  himself  off  with 
as  many  demonstrations  of  respect  as  if  she  were  a  queen. 

After  much  ringing  a  servant  appeared,  but  ho  declared  his  lady 
received  no  such  visitors,  and  was  with  difficulty  persuaded  to  call 
the  housekeeper,  having  first  taken  the  precaution  to  close  the 
door  in  Catherine's  face.  The  Surgeon  happening  to  look  out  of  a 
window  saw  tht  figure  on  the  door-step,  and  judging  that  it  was  a 
sick-call,  came  down  with  a  light  and  admitted  her  to  the  hall.  On 
seeing  Miss  McAuley  in  such  a  plight,  he  uttered  an  exclamation 
of  fcurprist,  and  she,  begging  that  the  housekeeper  would  not  dis- 
turb Mrs.  Cusack,  asked  to  be  allowed  to  lie  down  soiuewhcrc  till 
morning.  The  Surgeon,  who  was  her  intimate  friend,  was  really 
grieved  for  her,  and  she,  out  of  consideration  for  her  brotlier-in-law 
would  not  make  known  the  cause  of  her  sortie. 

In  a  few  moments  she  lay,  foot-sore  and  weary,  on  a  cnrnfortahlo 
couch,  not  to  Bleep— sleep  was  impossible — but  to  pray  for  her 


imogining 
cd  forward 
it  cad  the 
lian  llic  vio- 
:atc  leading 
vc  Id  of  the 
n  a  military 
•.  She  told 
ic  had  been 
to  allow  her 

0  lived  hard 
id  his  sympa- 
kind-hearted 
:)nducted  her 
it  brother  in 

sentry,  while 

1  not  a  step 

"lady,"  then 
onducted  her 
nsclf  off  with 
leen. 
lared  his  lady 

laded  to  call 

to  close  tbo 
llook  out  of  a 

that  it  was  a 

Ithc  hall.    On 

exclamation 

ould  not  dis- 

oiiiewhcre  till 
|d,  was  really 

irotlier-in-law 

comfortable 
pray  for  her 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


119 


beloved  sister's  husband  and  children,  and  her  prayers  were  not 
unheard. 

It  is  superfluous  to  remark  that  she  never  forgot  that  fearful 
night.  Her  fair  hair  grew  hourly  fairer,  and  if  sorrow  and  terror 
did  not  blanch  it  immediately,  certain  it  is  that  ere  many  weeks 
elapsed  her  hair  "  was  gray,  though  not  with  years."  Some  por- 
tions of  it  still  jealously  hoarded  by  those  who  regard  themselves 
fortunate  in  possessing  auy  thing  pertaining  to  the  foundress  of  the 
Order  of  Mercy,  are  as  white  as  the  scanty  locks  of  a  centenarian, 
though  she  was  but  fifty-four  at  the  time  of  her  death,  and  her 
hau*  had  been  of  that  shade  of  auburn  which  retains  its  hue  to 
very  advanced  years. 

The  Doctor,  who  discovered  the  place  of  her  retreat,  came  in  a 
few  days  to  ask  her  jiardon,  "  I  was  mad,  that  night,  Kittie," 
said  he,  "  forgive  my  violence  ;  I  knew  not  what  I  was  doing." 

She  frankly  extended  her  hand,  and  from  that  moment  each 
esteemed  the  other  more  than  ever.  The  remembrance  of  that  noc- 
inmal  fray,  with  its  antecedents  and  consequents,  sufllced  to  keep 
him  humble  and  meek  during  the  rest  of  his  days  ;  for  he  knew  well 
that  to  have  attempted  a  cowardly  assault  on  the  life  of  a  helpless 
female,  and  that  in  his  own  house,  was  an  act  too  dastardly  for  any 
amount  of  bigotry  or  bad  temper  to  excuse  in  a  gentleman,  and 
indeed  he  was  thoroughly  ashamed  of  his  conduct. 

*  We  have  been  asked  aeveral  times  whether  Dr.  \V.  Macauley  wai  related  to 
the  family  of  Catherine.  Ilewainot.  Catherine  met  him  for  the  firat  time  a 
little  before  her  iUter'i  marriage  with  him  in  1810. 


il 


*i 


TRBW 


^^w. 


CHAPTER  X. 


BoAnty  everywhere. — Somctliing  !ovcIy  in  every  one.— Mary  Teresa  McAiil'.y.— 
Sbo  evinoes  u  desire  to  become  a  Catholis. — Her  auDt's  devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament. — The  3Iea  Culpa. 

TmS  world  is  a  world  of  beauty.  Its  mountains,  its  forests, 
its  glassy  ocean,  its  limpid  streams — these,  fresh  from  the  hand 
of  nature,  speak  to  tiie  heart  of  nature's  God.  From  the  sun's 
disc  oa  tlie  distant  horizon  to  his  meridian  glory  on  which  our  fee- 
ble eyes  may  not  gaze,  his  course  is  one  of  splendor,  and  when  he 
softly  sinks  behind  the  western  hills,  does  he  not  look  more  lovely 
if  less  sublime?  Every  inhabitant  of  the  dsep  waters,  the  com- 
pact earth,  the  balmy  air — from  the  huge  leviathan  to  the  animal- 
culn3  which  the  keenest  eye  unaided  could  not  oiscover,  every  thing 
speaks  of  the  Divine  hand  that  fashioned  all.  But  among  the 
creatures  which  mother  cartii  sends  from  her  teeming  bosom,  among 
those  which  bosk  in  the  sunshine  on  her  velvet  hills,  or  frisk  joy- 
ously in  the  pearly  depths  of  her  blue  waters,  there  is  uo  beauty 
like  that  of  ti.e  "  human  face  divine,"  through  whoso  eyes  an  im- 
morta!  soul  looks  out  on  the  material  world,  and  in  whoso  every 
lineament  the  invisible  Creator  becomes  visible. 

All  things  are  made  for  man,  but  man,  who  is  infinitely  superior 
to  all  else,  is  made  for  God  ;  hence  faith  can  discover  goodness  and 
beauty  in  the  meanest  of  those  rational  creatures  into  whom  the 
Creator  himself  breathed  tho  breath  of  life.  Seared  and  blackened 
though  their  souls  be,  there  aro  still  traces  of  that  Divine  Original 
which  the  guilt  of  years  cannot  obliterate.  As  all  metal,  precious 
or  vile,  is  ennobled  when  stamped  with  tho  image  of  the  king,  so 
is  mail  in  every  estate  noble,  because  his  soul  is  impressed  with  tho 
imago  of  the  Deity. 

The  beautiful  things  of  the  material  world  faintly  typify  the  bid- 


1 


«■ 


■csa  McAnI'-y.— " 
levotion  co  Ihe 


is,  its  forests, 
rrom  the  hand 
torn  the  sun's 
which  our  fce- 
,  and  when  ho 
>k  more  lovely 
;er8,  the  com- 
to  the  animal- 
cr,  every  thing 
it  among  the 
bosom,  among 
fl,  or  frisk  joy- 
!  is  «o  beauty 
30  eyes  an  im- 
XI  whose  every 

initely  superior 
r  goodness  and 
into  whom  the 
and  blackened 
Divine  Original 
metal,  precious 
of  the  king,  so 
rcssed  with  the 


typify  the  hid- 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


121 


den  beauty  of  human  souls  destined  to  live  as  long  as  God  shall  bo 
Oofl  in  an  ther,  and,  if  tliey  choose,  a  brighter  world.  Tlio  fair 
lily  reminds  us  of  the  spotless  purity  attained  by  those  who  serve 
God  under  Mary's  guidance  ;  and  the  radiant  rose,  of  the  charity 
which  loves  all,  and  the  good  odor  of  Jesus  which  virtue  never 
fails  to  diffuse.  13y  hill  and  dale,  by  stream  and  fountain,  flowers 
bloom  when  there  are  few  to  admire  them,  teaching  those  who 
listen  to  their  geutlc  teachings,  that  as  they  bloom  in  loveliness  far 
from  the  foslering  care  of  man,  so  in  the  crowded  lanes  of  smoky 
ci.iL's,  in  dense  forests,  in  vast  prairies — in  situations  most  inimical  to 
the  growth  of  virtue,  there  may  be  saints  whose  virtue  is  unknown 
to  tlie  multitude  that  it  may  be  the  more  highly  prized  by  God. 
Blades  of  grass  force  their  way  through  the  granite  rock,  and  the 
hard  trunk  of  the  unsightly  milk-tree  gives  out  its  delicious  bever- 
age to  the  weary  travelle  • ;  even  so,  those  who  possess  ski'.i  to 
extract  it,  may  find  goodness  in  every  human  being,  perfect  or  im- 
perfect, sinless  or  sinful. 

The  finest  musical  instruments  give  out  discordant  sounds  when 
struck  by  mean  performers,  but  let  an  adept  in  the  bewitching  art 
sweep  her  fingers  gracefully  over  the  keys,  and  she  can  produce 
whatever  effect  she  pleases.  Who  has  not  seen  the  soldier's  eyo 
flash  fire  when  the  martial  airs  are  gallautly  struck  up  which  cause 
him  to  forget  that  he  is  going  to  make  wives  widows,  and  hap»>y 
children  orphans,  that  in  the  heat  of  the  battle  he  may  cut  down 
..  fond  father's  pride  and  the  solace  of  a  loving  mother's  declining 
years  ?  Passions  and  feelings,  often  unsuspected  by  their  owners, 
lie  dormant  in  human  hearts  like  the  untouched  keys  of  a  musical 
instrument,  and  if  they  sometimes  give  forth  sounds  discordant  or 
unlovely,  is  it  not  perhaps  that  they  have  been  struck  by  untutored 
fingers  ?  The  instrument  is  a  good  one,  it  was  fashioned  by  a 
divine  Artificer. 

There  are  some  among  our  fellow-creatures  whom  we  canno* 
easily  love  because  we  will  not  study  them  ;  in  another  life  we  may 
learn  the  worth  of  many  with  whom  it  now  seems  almost  painful 
to  hold  daily  intercourse.  Others,  again,  fascinate  us  before  we 
are  aware  of  it,  by  their  beauty,  talents,  and  amiability.  Of  the 
latter  class  was  Mary  Teresa  McAulcy.    The  innate  beauty  of  a 


if 


122 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


guileless  sonl  was  faiutly  mirrored  in  her  beanteons  face.  The  rose 
and  the  lily  had  struggled  forlhe  honor  of  resting  on  her  fait  cheek, 
and  though  the  lily  became  victor,  the  rose  did  not  depart  without 
leaving  a  rich  tinge  of  her  loveliest  hue  ;  her  dark,  brilliant  eyes 
flashed  with  a  fiery  yet  dreamy  beauty,  her  nose  and  mouth  were 
fit  models  for  a  Grecian  sculptor.  Whether  by  accident  or  design, 
slie  always  appeared  in  the  costume  that  best  enhanced  her  charms, 
and  a  glance  at  her  might  convince  one,  that  the  beauty  attributed 
to  the  last  of  the  Scottish  queens,  was  not  all  imaginary. 

Horticulture,  a  delightful  occupation  for  the  leisure  of  high  life, 
was  a  favorite  pastime  with  this  beautiful  girl.  Indeed,  it  became 
aimost  a  fashion  since  the  time  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  ;*  and 
would  that  every  fashion  originating  at  court  were  as  harmless. 
The  life  of  Mary  Teresa  was  typified  in  that  of  more  than  one  of 
her  favorite  plants.  She  was  watched,  and  loved,  and  cultivated, 
yet  just  as  her  beauty  was  at  its  height  the  stem  bent,  and  the 
flower  drooped  beneath  the  weight  of  its  own  loveliness. 

When  we  drop  the  tiny  seed  in  its  narrow  grave,  wc  feed  it 
abundantly,  we  tear  up  mercilessly  every  weed  that  presumes  to 
dispute  ground  with  it.  When  the  cherished  flower  begins  to 
appear,  it  must  be  sheltered  from  morning  frost  and  noontide  heat, 
and  at  evening  it  holds  up  its  dusty  calyx,  as  if  in  supplication, 
towards  us.  Notwithstanding  all  our  contrivances,  the  frosit  will 
sometimes  nip  the  bud,  the  heavy  rain  break  the  fragile  stem,  or 
the  careless  foot  of  some  one  who  does  not  appreciate  its  beauty 
inadvertently  press  it  to  the  earth.  Are  not  the  young  and  lovely 
daily  torn  from  our  midst,  though  the  most  devoted  care  be  lavishly 
bestowed  on  them  ?  Are  they  not  sometimes  ruthlessly  crushed  by 
such  as  cannot,  or  will  not  appreciate  them  ?  How  often  do  we 
hear  an  afflicted  mother  say  of  her  departed  darling  :  "  I  did  every 
thing  for  her  ;  she  was  my  joy,  my  treasure  ;  she  was  lovely,  she  was 
good,  and  now  she  is  snatched  away,  just  as  I  begin  to  realize  her 
worth.    After  all,  I  reared  her  for  nothing."    And  yet,  fond  mother. 


*  Dmitjliler  of  Gcorgo  IV.  nnd  Carolino  of  Brunswick,  heiress  to  tlio  crown, 
llcr  ilontli,  in  1817,  threw  Kiigland  into  consternntion.  She  wns  excessively 
fond  of  gardening.  Few  pri  iccsses  of  tlie  house  of  Brunswick  have  hit  tMhind 
«  fuiror  reputation. 


H 


ace.  The  rose 
her  fair  cheek, 
depart  without 
:,  brilliant  eyes 
1(1  mouth  were 
dent  or  design, 
jcd  her  charms, 
luty  attributed 
nary. 

ire  of  high  life, 
ieed,  it  became 
harlotte  ;*  and 
■e  as  harmless. 
>rc  than  one  of 
and  cultivated, 
I  bent,  and  the 
iness. 

ave,  we  feed  it 
at  presumes  to 
3wer  begins  to 
I  noontide  heat, 
in  supplication, 
s,  the  frofit  will 

fragile  stem,  or 
ciate  its  beauty 
oung  and  lovely 
care  be  lavishly 
essly  crushed  by 
ow  often  do  we 
"  I  did  every 
J  lovely,  she  was 

n  to  realize  her 
ret,  fond  mother, 

ross  to  tlio  crown. 
0  wn»  excessively 
ik  liavo  leil  iMliind 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


123 


if  yon  reared  h  •  well  you  did  not  rear  her  for  nothing — she  is  not 
lost,  but  gone  before  you — an  early  grave  is  a  noble  destiny,  when 
fillowed  by  a  blessed  eternity. 

The  short  life  of  the  beautiful  and  highly-gifted  Mary  Teresa 
repaid  even  here  the  care  lavished  on  her.  A  father's  pride,  a 
mother's  joy,  the  idol  of  all  around  her,  she  shone  wherever  she 
appeared,  like  Venus  among  tlie  stars,  and  if  ever  personal  loveli- 
ness were  a  sure  index  of  loveliness  hidden  within,  it  was  so  in  this 
instance.  Too  good  for  companionship  with  mortul.s,  she  was  soon 
translated  to  a  happier  world.     But  we  anticipate. 

Feoole  view  exterior  attractions  with  varied  sentiments.  To 
some  vhey  give  death.  St.  Syncletica,  first  Abbess  in  the  church, 
advised  her  daughters,  when  they  met  with  beauty,  to  use  the 
thought  of  death  as  an  antidote  to  the  poison  it  might  convey  to 
the  soul.*  And  St.  John  Climacus  mentions  a  holy  man  who  could 
not  gaze  on  a  beautiful  face  without  shedding  tears  of  devotion, 
and  being  ravished  in  ecstasy,  regarding  its  loveliness  as  a  feeble 
emanation  of  the  transcendent  beauty  of  the  first  and  only  Fair. 
But  we  could  never  look  on  such  loveliness,  without  shuddering 
at  the  primeval  curse  which  the  creature's  sin  wrung  from  the  angry 
Creator  ;  and  sighing  to  think,  that  that  finely-wrought  frame,  that 
exquisitely  chiselled  face,  and  those  delicate  hands,  must  furnish 
food  for  worms  before  they  can  bloom  immortal  in  heaven  I 

Mary  Teresa  early  evinced  a  desire  to  become  a  Catholic.  Her 
aunt,  out  of  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  always  washed 
with  her  own  hands  the  altar  linens  of  the  parish  church.  The 
child,  when  a  guest  at  Coolock,  perceiving  this,  asked  the  reason 
of  it ;  and  though  she  could  not  very  well  understand  it,  she  de- 
lighted to  be  permitted  to  wait  on  her  pious  relative  on  those  oc- 
casions. One  day,  she  was  discovered  secreting  a  little  bottle  of 
ihc  water  in  which  the  corporals,  etc.,  had  been  washed  ;  and  on 
being  questioned,  she  replied  that  she  thought  the  water  must  bo 
holy,  and,  therefore,  wanted  to  keep  some  always.  Her  aunt,  who 
saw  the  Holy  Spirit  working  in  her  tender  mind,  always  gave  her 
whatever  information  she  asked,  but  never  pressed  her  on  the  sub* 


L 


*  Vie  de  St«.  S/ncl4tiqae,  par  St.  AthknMa. 


Ki:; 


i  ■ 


I 


»»;iL 


!ia» 


124 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


ject  of  religion.  She  was  delighted  to  have  her  sister's  children 
visit  her,  but  she  was  careful  to  let  all  her  relatives  know  thnt  tlicy 
must  not  oxpi'ct  to  be  enriuhed  by  her  wealth  ;  that  she  uiadc  over 
entirely  to  tlie  poor.  Mary  Teresa's  chief  delights  were  to  ac- 
company her  to  church,  and  to  learn  Catholic  prayers.  When  quite 
a  child,  she  used  to  watch  her  aunt  at  prayer ;  once  she  noticed 
her  saying  the  Confiteor ;  directly  she  wanted  to  learn  it.  "  What 
prayer  do  you  wish  to  learn,  my  child  ?"  said  Miss  McAuley.  "  The 
thumping  prayer,  dear  aunt,"  said  the  little  one.  The  striking  the 
breast  at  the  mea  culpa  quite  struck  her  fancy.  In  1821,  she  en- 
treated to  be  prepared  for  baptism  ;  and,  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Ce- 
cilia, 1828,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  she  received  that  sacrament 
from  the  Archbishop,  who  kindly  oflfered  to  receive  her  abjuration 
himself.  This  took  place  in  the  little  chapel  of  the  future  convent 
in  Baggot-strcct. 


L 


T 


tcr's  c'lildrcn 
low  thi'.t  they 
he  made  over 
•  were  to  ac- 
When  quite 
e  she  noticed 
rnit.  "What 
Auley.  "The 
le  striking  the 
1827,  she  en- 
ist  of  St.  Ce- 
liat  sacrament 
her  abjuration 
future  content 


CnAPTER  XI. 

Projects  of  the  FoundrcRs, — First  utono  of  Basjfot-strect  Ilouso  Inid.— V.  B. 
Dr.  Blnkc's  prcucntinicnt. — IIo  U  summoned  to  Rome  to  restore  the  Irish 
C«llc(ie. — Miss  Funny  Tialie. — Miss  Mc.\uley'»  arcliitects  build  n  Convent. — 
Very  Ecv.  Dr.  Armstrong's  illricis  and  dcntli. — Mr.  CiillalmM's  will  con- 
tested.— The  Institution  opei  J. — Action  and  contemplation. — Extracts 
from  Ven.  Archdeacon  O'Brien. 

WHEN  Catherine  became  an  heiress,  she  felt  that  God  required 
her  to  do  something  permanent  for  the  poor.  She  was  now 
able  to  realize  her  early  visions  by  founding  an  institution  in  which 
servants,  and  other  women  of  good  character,  might,  when  out  of 
work,  find  a  temporary  home,  and  be  shielded  from  the  dangers  to 
which  indigence  exposes  so  many  of  their  sex.  Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Armstrong  and  Very  Rev.  Dr,  Blake  were  her  spiritual  advisers, 
and  in  their  wiiidom,  charity,  and  zeal  she  placed  implicit  confi- 
dftice.  Having  deliberated  on  what  she  laid  before  them,  they  de- 
cided on  procuring  a  site  in  a  respectable  part  of  the  city,  on  which 
a  house  suited  for  what  she  proposed,  might  be  erected.*  Tiiey 
remarked  that  it  had  been  too  much  the  custom  to  build  Catholic 
institutions  in  alleys  and  by-ways,  and  suggested  that  the  house 
in  contemplation  should  be  the  first  to  emerge  from  the  localities  to 
which  centuries  of  persecution  had  driven  every  thing  Cutiiolic  ; 
adding,  that  an  establishment  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  ought  to 
be  iu  the  vicinity  of  the  wealthy,  who,  when  they  saw  it  working, 

*  "  It  Wfts  deemed  ndvisalile,"  siys  Denn  Murphy,  speukini?  of  tho  projocts 
of  the  Foundress,  "  to  lake,  not  n  house  iilrciuly  built  iind  occupied  lor  cither 
purpo.«os,  iiiid  which  slie  would  have  souiu  difficnhy  in  Hdiiptiiiir  to  her  own 
purposes,  but  a  phit  of  (trouiid  that  never  liad  boon  built  upon,  mid  to  erect  for 
the  honor  and  glory  of  Goil  an  edirtce  that  had  never  been  profaned  by  tlia 
vices  and  follies  of  fashionable  life,  or  sullied  by  any  insult  to  the  Catholic  re- 
ligion, anu  wliiuh  should  ho  holy  iu  its  creation  as  in  its  use,  and  dediostod  to 
God  from  ii.'^  very  foundation." 


^  r\ 


m 


Y 


I;:,; 


!S;i.. 


iiUii 


mm 


126 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAUIET. 


would  sustain  it.     In  any  case,  it  could  not  fail  of  reminding  them 
of  the  precept  of  almsnfiviiig. 

Dr.  IJlakc  fi.xed  on  tlie  frround  at  the  junction  of  lower  Baggot- 
Btreet  and  Ilerhert-strcet,  a  fasliiDnable  quarter  whicii  combined 
tlie  advantajie.s  of  sinii-niral  situation  witli  pro.vimity  to  tlie  town. 
Riglit  lion.  Sidney  Herbert,  tiie  landlord,  and  his  agent,  Mr.  Ver- 
secoyle,  were  very  iiiqui.sitive  as  to  what  a  maiden  lady  could  want 
with  ground  sutticient  for  four  houses  the  size  of  those  already 
built,  and  four  gardens  larger  still.  They  '>oped  "  nothing  char- 
itable was  going  to  be  got  up,  nothing  calculated  to  injure  the 
locality  by  bringing  the  poor  about  the  place."  After  much  nego- 
tiation, the  ground  was  purchased  for  the  large  sum  of  five  thou- 
sand pounds,  subject,  also,  to  an  annual  rent  of  si.xty  pounds, 
Miss  McAuley  promising  she  would  have  nothing  carried  on  in  the 
house  about  to  be  erected  bat  what  was  good  and  respectable. 
Early  in  July,  1824,  the  first  stone  was  bles.sed  and  laid  by  Very 
Bcv.  Dr.  Blake  ;  but  just  as  the  building  was  commenced,  he  was 
called  to  Rome  to  restore  the  Irish  College,  which  had  been  sup- 
pressed during  the  French  occupation  of  the  Eternal  City. 

Tuis  learned  and  pious  priest  felt  a  presentiment,  if  not  a  pro- 
phetic certainty,  that  the  usefulness  of  the  establishment  about  to 
be  formed  would  not  expire  with  the  originator.  Conversing  witti 
the  holy  Pope  Leo  XII.  on  the  state  of  religion  in  Irelaud,  he  in- 
formefi  him  of  ihe  efforts  nude  ii'  behalf  of  the  poor  by  a  wealthy 
lady  in  Dublin,  who,  he  said,  "seemed  specially  raised  up  by  God 
to  accomplish  some  great  work  in  the  Church,  and  whose  zeal  for 
the  conversion  of  Protestants  and  bad  Catholics  had  already  been 
signally  blessed."  This  information  was  joyfully  received  by  the 
Father  of  Christendom,  and  perhaps  prepared  the  way  for  the 
prompt  sanction  given  to  Archbishop  Murray  by  the  Holy  See,  a 
little  later,  for  the  cstablislimeut  of  a  new  religious  institute  in  his 
episcopal  city. 

As  the  house  approached  completion,  Catherine  lost  the  three 
persons  from  whom  she  expected  most  assistance.  The  only  Cath- 
olic acquaintance  she  had  whom  she  would  choose  for  a  com- 
panion in  the  work  she  designed  to  accomplish,  was  Miss  Fanny 
Tighe,  a  lady  of  piety  and  talent,  who  was  greatly  devoted  to  tli« 


MH> 


"V -^i|>ii '  ,i_|iii>inir.,ii  11 


Tiinding  them 

)wcr  Baggot- 
icii  combined 
to  tlie  town. 
:!nt,  Mr.  Ver- 
y  could  want 
those  already 
lotlilng  char- 
to  injure  the 
;r  much  ncgo- 
of  five  thou- 
sixty  pounds, 
ried  on  in  the 
1  respectable, 
laid  by  Very 
cnced,  he  was 
tiad  been  sup- 
City. 

,  if  not  a  pro- 
nent  about  to 
)nversing  witti 
[relaud,  he  in- 
by  a  wealthy 
?d  np  by  God 
vhose  zeal  for 
.  already  been 
reived  by  the 
way  for  the 
e  Holy  See,  a 
institute  iu  his 

lost  the  tbreo 
Dhc  only  Cath- 
sc  for  a  com- 
s  Miss  Fanny 
leroted  to  tli9 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   M^^AULEY. 


127 


poor.  Not  knowing  exactly  what  her  friend  intended,  Miss  TIghe 
manifested  a  desire  of  joining  some  order  specially  devoted  to  the 
poor,  as  the  Presentation.  Catherine,  to  whom  she  applied  for 
couusel,  felt  this  very  deeply,  but  jvith  her  characteristic  nobility  of 
soul,  would  not  say  a  word  to  dissuade  her,  or  even  give  her  a  word 
of  advice  beyond  recommending  her  to  pray  to  know  God's  will, 
and  to  rely  implicitly  on  the  decision  of  her  confessor.  "  If  yoa 
stay  with  me,  I  shall  be  grateful,"  said  hhc,  "  but  if  God  wants 
you  elsewhere,  you  must  follow  His  call."  'N^'hcu  Miss  Fanny  be- 
came a  Presentation  nun,  there  was  no  diminution  of  friendship 
between  these  two  sonls,  knit  together  iu  God.  ^er  richer  friend 
even  aided  her  to  fulfil  her  vocation,  by  relieving  her  of  some  pe- 
cuniary embarrassment.  Catheriai  went  to  Galway  to  be  present 
at  Miss  Tighe's  reception,  and  took  with  her  her  god-child  Teresa, 
that  a  pious  impression  might  be  made  on  her  young  mind  by  that 
imposing  ceremony. 

Si-xtcen  years  later,  the  two  friends  met  again.  Meantime  the 
one  had  lived  a  quiet,  useful  life  in  the  ancient  "  City  of  the  Tribes," 
and  the  other  had  borne  crosses  that  might  have  crushed  many  a 
strong  heart,  and  had  laid  in  the  grave  almost  all  she  loved.  She 
was  a  little  disappointed  to  find  that  years  had  dealt  somewhat 
roughly  with  Miss  Fanny,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  following 
passage  :  "  We  passed  one  day  at  the  Presentation  Convent  with 
my  dear  friend,  Sister  TiOuise  Tighc.*  She  is  all  affection,  but 
changed  from  a  fine  young  woman  of  twenty-six  to  a  middle-aged 
woman  of  forty.  It  seemed  so  short  a  period  since  last  I  saw  her 
that  I  looked  anxiously  for  my  dear  Fanny,  when  to  my  surprise  a 
new  figure,  with  a  new  face,  ran  forward  to  meet  me.  Alas,  how 
many  loved  faces  have  vanished  from  my  poor  sight  in  life  and 
death,  since  she  left  me !" 

After  Dr.  Blake's  departure.  Dr.  Edward  Armstrong  was  the 
only  person  to  whom  Catherine  confided  her  plans,  and  in  him  she 

•  Mother  Louise  Tiglio  flill  liven  (1866).  Lonsrcvity  is  tlie  riilo  rntlior  than 
the  exception  in  the  inclosed  convents  of  Ireland.  A  few  facts  recorded  in  this 
woric  were  supplied  by  lier;  and  We  li"re  gratefully  acicnowledge  her  kindnesfi. 
The  meeting  nbo.e  alluded  to, tool:  place  in  May,  1840,  when  Mother  MoAuley 
went  to  Galway  to  found  a  Convent  of  Mercy. 


^^mfmimm 


123 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


found  a  true  friend,  from  wliose  good  sense,  zeal,  and  experience, 
she  expotted  the  new  establishment  to  take  its  form.  Perhaps  she 
relied  too  much  on  this  valued  spiritual  guide,  and  God,  to  show- 
that  he  could  accomplish  his  will  by  any  instruments  He  chose, 
deprived  her  of  his  counsel  and  sympathy  just  when  they  appeared 
indispensable.  The  new  house  was  almost  finished.  To  the 
architects  who  had  come  for  instructions,  she  gave  in  her  concise 
style  the  following  items  of  what  she  required  : 

1.  Very  large  rooms  for  poor  schools,  three  or  four. 

2.  Large  dormitories  for  distressed  young  women,  four. 

3.  One  room  loftier  than  the  others,  which  might  suit  for  an 
oratory. 

4.  A  few  small  rooms,  for  any  ladies  that  might  wish  to  aid  in 
taking  care  of  the  poor. 

They  planned  a  very  spacious  but  plain  building,  the  mere  shell 
of  which  cost  four  thousand  pounds.  As  it  progressed  it  attracted 
much  attention,  but  neither  workmen  nor  contractors  could  answer 
the  questions  frequently  put  to  them  as  to  the  precise  object  of  its 
erection.  Some  were  charitable  enough  to  conclude  that  Miss 
McAuley,  having  lately  come  into  the  possession  of  great  wealth, 
did  not  know  what  to  do  with  it ;  her  brother  himself,  who  used 
sometimes  to  go  to  look  at  the  strange  concern,  "  considered  "  the 
whole  thing  "  a  wasteful  expenditure,"  but  he  made  no  comment  ia 
Catherine's  hearing,  nor  did  he  ask  what  her  views  were,  as  he  saw 
she  did  not  wish  to  reveal  her  projects. 

When  the  plans  for  working  the  new  institute  were  well 
matured.  Dr.  Armstrong  fell  sick,  and  his  sickness  was  unto  death. 
The  new  house  being  finished,  Catherine  was  surprised  and  even 
amused  to  find  that  her  architects  had  built  a  convent  I  Cells  and 
corridors  in  profusion,  and  even  the  room  she  designed  for  an  ora- 
tory separated  from  the  parlor  by  a  grate  I  Her  dying  friend 
manifested  no  surprise  at  this,  bat  remarked  in  his  quiet,  impressive 
manner :  "  We  did  not  anticipate  this,  but  God  has  his  own  designs 
in  it."  She  continu',d  to  watch  over  this  dear  director,  using  for 
his  recovery  every  means  that  affection  and  veneration  could  sug- 
gest ;  but  all  in  vain.  Feeling  that  his  life  might  now  be  counted 
by  moments,  he  sent  for  the  archbishop,  whose  confessor  he  had 


i  experience, 
Perhaps  she 
od,  to  show 
its  He  chose, 
lioy  appeared 
;d.  To  the 
u  her  concise 


four. 

it  snit  for  an 

rish  to  aid  in 

the  mere  shell 
d  it  attracted 
could  answer 
2  object  of  its 
do  that  Miss 
great  wealth, 
elf,  who  used 
nsidered"  the 
0  comment  in 
ere,  as  he  saw 

were  well 
IS  unto  death, 
sed  and  even 
Cells  and 
ed  for  an  ora- 
dyiiig  friend 
let,  impressive 
is  own  designs 
;tor,  using  for 
ion  could  sug- 
)w  be  counted 
fessor  he  had 


LirE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


129 


beco  for  years,  and  recommended  to  his  grace  with  peculiar  earnest- 
ness "  his  saintly  penitent."  "  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  I  have  known 
this  lady  for  many  years,  I  hare  seen  noble  iiisto'.ces  of  her  char- 
ity and  zeal,  and  for  a  long  time  I  iiave  felt  a  convittion,  which  I 
have  been  unable  to  shake  off,  that  Catherine  McAuley  is  destined 
to  accomplish  some  great  work  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good 
of  the  poor."  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  the  zealous 
prelate  gratified  the  dying  priest  by  promising  that  his  aid  would 
not  be  wanting  to  the  development  of  her  charitable  plans. 

When  Catherine  saw  that  she  was  really  about  to  lose  her  holy 
director,  keenly  as  she  felt  the  trial,  she  blessed  the  will  of  God, 
adorable  though  inscrutable  in  its  decrees.  She  petitioned  him  to 
name  some  priest  to  whom  she  might  recur  for  counsel  and  support 
when  he  should  be  no  more,  but  he  did  not  comply  with  her  request. 

The  day  before  his  death,  Rev.  Mr.  W ,  a  clergyman  of  much 

talent  and  influence,  visited  him,  and  as  Miss  McAuley  had  previ- 
ously observec'  that  this  priest  had  ability  to  do  much  for  the  glory 
of  God,  she  asked  her  dying  friend  whether  she  might  safely  con- 
fide in  him.  He  mused  a  few  moments,  and  then  answered  \ery 
solemnly  :  "  I  do  not  think  so."  Surprised  at  this  reply,  she  at 
once  acquiesced  in  his  decision.  Next  morning  he  renewed  the 
subject,  and  repeated,  almost  with  his  last  breath  : 

"Place  no  trust  in  any  man  :  let  God  alone  be  your  hope.  He 
will  proioct  and  assist  yor/' 

Very  Rev.  Ed\vard  Armstrong  departed  to  our  Lord  on  Ascen- 
sion Day,  1826.  His  last  act  before  he  fell  sick,  was  to  furnish  a 
dormitory  in  the  new  house,  for  poor  women,  on  which  occasion  he 
gave  fifty  pounds  towards  their  support.  Although  pastor  of  a 
rich  parish,*  he  followed  to  the  letter  that  counsel  of  St.  Patrick, 
that  "  the  lamp  should  take  only  the  oil  it  consumes."  He  made 
no  will,  for  he  had  nothing  to  bequeath.  Mother  McAuley  always 
spoke  of  him  with  gratitude  and  veneration,  and  well  might  she 
revere  his  memory,  for  she  met  with  few  such.  Later  on,  when  she 
experienced  the  most  violent  opposition,  she  had  reason  to  remem- 
ber her  early  director.     He  had  given  her  a  very  beautiful  "  Cal- 

*  $t.  Micban'8,  Anne-streat. 
6» 


il 


ii^rt;.'?ljrr'^r 


^fife* 


|^?»|?J^^ij'g*;i^.;^i^jy^;.^^ 


.ij'  iHHlgll 


■ygf^gri   '»■     ■»!.. 


130 


LIFE   OF  CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


vary"  which  he  brought  from  P'rance.  Before  this  she  often 
rcnuiiiicd  kir'ciinjr  for  hour?,  and  when  the  Sisters  were  obllp;ed  by 
6oi;ic  business  to  interru|)t  her,  t!icy  usually  found  Iier  in  t?ors. 

Had  she  conununicated  her  |)rojects  to  Rev.  Mr.  W ,  the  In- 
stitute had  been  nipped  iu  the  bud.  Ho  became  tlic  most  violent 
opponent  of  every  good  work  she  originated  ;  i)ut  of  this  here- 
after. Her  next  director  was  Rev.  Josejjh  Nugent,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded Dr.  Blake  in  the  Parish  of  SS.  Michael  and  John,  a  very 
pious  and  higlily-giftcd  clergyman.  About  this  time  Mr.  Calla- 
han's will  was  contested  on  plea  of  insanity  in  the  testator,  but  it 
did  not  require  much  legal  acumen  to  disprove  this.  As  the  will 
was  made  before  the  Emancipation,  it  could  bo  contested  on 
stronger  grounds,  had  it  been  publicly  known  tkat  he  died  a  Cath- 
olic ;  and  as  ^Mr.  Ciillahan's  valet  and  cook  were  in  this  secret  as 
witnesses,  the  heiress  naturally  felt  some  apprehensions.  In  this 
emergency  she  was  singularly  indebted  to  Father  Nugent ;  but  he 
had  no  sooner  assisted  her  through  it,  than  he  was  seized  with 
typhus  fever.  After  fifteen  days'  illness,  during  which  she  scarcely 
ever  left  him,  he  died  the  death  of  the  just.  Well  might  she  say : 
"  I  am  so  familiarized  with  death  that  the  tomb  seems  never  to  be 
closed  in  my  regard." 

As  her  time  in  future  would  be  spent  chiefly  in  Baggot-street, 
and  as  she  was  at  present  obliged  to  reside  a  great  deal  in  her  sis- 
ter's family,  she  determined  to  relinquish  her  establishment  at  Coo- 
lock.  She  therefore  sold  Coolock,*  with  the  library,  pictures,  and 
as  much  of  the  furniture  as  she  considered  unsuitable  for  the  insti- 
tution she  contemplated.  Her  equipage  she  reserved  till  a  later 
perijd. 

She  continually  revolved  in  her  mind  how  she  could  best  work 
the  new  establishment.  Those  on  whose  counsel  she  had  relied, 
perhaps  too  mucii,  wero  taken  from  her,  and  she  scarcely  had  a 
Catholic  friend.  The  words  of  her  dying  director  often  rung  in 
her  ears,  ainl  those  who  had  the  privilege  of  intimacy  with  her  in 
alter-lil'e,  well  knew  that  his  instruction  hnd  not  been  lost,  for  she 
poi-  eased  the  beautiful  virtue  of  confidence  in  Qod  in  a  very  emi- 
nent, or  rather  heroic  degree. 

Besides  protecting  distressed  women,  and  establishing  schools, 

*  <^99l9t^l(  U9UI9  >»tin  »Undt,  ftnd  roUius  lu  old  apnollutinn. 


Xmmt 


is  she  often 
re  oblip:ecl  by 
in  t?  ars. 

,  the  In- 

!  most  violent 
of  this  liere- 
who  had  sue- 
John,  a  very 
ac  Mr.  Calla- 
jstator,  but  it 
As  the  will 
contested  on 
3  died  a  Cath- 
this  secret  as 
ions.     In  this 
jgent ;  but  he 
IS  6ei?ed  with 
:h  she  scarcely 
night  she  say : 
US  never  to  be 

Baggot-street, 
deal  in  her  sis- 
ihment  at  Coo- 
r,  pictures,  and 
le  for  the  insti- 
ircd  till  a  later 

juld  best  work 
3he  had  relied, 
scarcely  had  a 
■  often  rung  ia 
acy  with  her  in 
een  lost,  for  she 
in  a  very  cmi- 

lishing  schools, 
ip\)lltttinn. 


p^^;j^i.^.«_ 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET, 


181 


she  also  designed  to  endow  an  Orphan  Asylum.  Indeed,  she  had 
some  orphans  under  her  care  already.  One  day,  visiting  the  sick 
in  a  lane  off  Liffcy-street,  she  saw  a  poor  little  child,  whose  parents 
had  just  died  of  some  epidemic,  put  out  of  tlicir  cellar,  the  proprie- 
tor having  arranged  to  rent  it  to  others.  Tlie  poor  infant  looked 
up  and  down  the  lane,  as  if  for  some  friend,  but  no  one  recognizing 
her,  she  at  length  sat  down  and  began  to  cry.  It  was  a  sad  sight. 
Miss  McAuley,  mingling  her  tears  with  those  of  the  weeping  child, 
picked  her  up  and  carried  her  home  ;  and  good  came  out  of  evil, 
for  had  not  that  orphan  been  so  cruelly  treated,  many  another  had 
wanted  a  home. 

But  whom  could  the  projector  of  so  many  holy  enterprises  place 
at  the  head  of  the  important  institution  she  designed?  For  the 
present,  her  own  residence  there  could  be  only  jccasional,  but  God 
soon  sent  her  what  she  prayed  for.  A  young  lady,  Miss  Anna 
Maria  Boyle,  sister  to  Father  Nugent's  successor  at  SS.  Miciiael 
and  John's,  happening  to  see  the  new  building,  requested  permis- 
sion to  go  through  it.  As  no  one  on  the  premises  could  give  her 
any  information  respecting  its  objects,  she  determined  to  procure 
an  introduction  to  Miss  McAuley,  and  on  hearing  her  cxplanatio!., 
she  felt  strongly  attracted  to  become  her  associate  in  tla  good 
works  she  contemplated.  The  Foundress  received  this  first  acces- 
sion  with  gratitude  and  delight,  and  believed  Miss  Doyle  sent  by 
Ilenren.  On  the  Feast  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy,  September  24, 
182T,  the  institution  was  opened  for  destitute  women,  orphans,  and 
poor  schools.  Miss  Doyle  resided  there  entirely.  Miss  McAuley 
occasionally,  and  a  young  lady.  Miss  Catherine  Byrne,  assisted 
efficiently  in  the  schools.  Not  one  of  those  concerned  ever 
dreamt  of  founding  a  Religious  Institute.  On  the  contrary,  Miss 
McAuIey's  plan  was  to  establish  a  sort  of  Society  of  secular  ladies, 
who,  between  the  period  of  leaving  school  and  settling  in  life, 
might,  without  inconvenience  to  their  families,  speru  a  few  hours 
daily  in  instructing  the  poor,  etc.  Yet  twcnt"  years  later,  and 
the  sun  does  not  set  on  the  Order  of  Mercy  then  originated. 

Catherine's  life  so  far  scema  so  active  as  to  exclude  loisurn  for 
prayer,  yet  she  daily  spent  hours  in  that  holy  cxercifie.  Perhaps 
tho  mi^^ority  of  the  saints  have  united  action  to  contemplation. 


t. 


^ 


liJUUI-i'iTI,— 


133 


LIFE  OF  CATHERIKK  MCAULKY. 


When  wc  look  at  the  external  works  of  St.  Tciesa,  iier  founda- 
tions, her  ascetic  works,  her  letters,  her  visits  to  the  sick,  oi't  of 
her  convent,  we  hardly  know  where  to  look  fur  the  greatest  con- 
templative of  niodurn  times.  It  is  much  the  same  \vith  others. 
Hear  St.  Bernard  complaining  that  his  business  scarcely  left  him 
half  an  hour  for  the  repose  of  contemplation.  "  There  are,  how- 
ever, those  so  absorbed  in  the  Divine  life  that  they  seem  to  think, 
speak,  and  act  under  motives,  views,  and  aflfectious  simply  super- 
natural. On  the  other  hand,  there  are  those,  and  of  the  very 
highest  order  of  sanctity,  too,  so  far  as  our  eyes  can  see,  in  whom 
the  supernatural  coml)ines  with  nature  instead  of  superseding  it — 
invigorating,  elevating,  and  ennobling  it ;  who  aro  not  the  less 
men  because  they  are  saints.  They  do  not  put  away  their  natural 
endowments,  they  use  them  for  the  glory  of  the  Giver  ;  they  do 
not  eclipse  tiiem  by  t'>e  brightness  of  Divine  grace,  but  only  trans- 
figure them.  They  U/'e  busy  in  human  society,  they  understand  the 
human  heart,  they  can  throw  themselves  into  the  minds  of  others. 
Wlule  they  themselves  stand  secure  in  the  blessedness  of  purity  and 
peace,  they  can  follow  in  imagination  the  ten  thousand  aberrations 
of  pride,  passion,  and  remorse.  The  world  is  to  them  a  book 
which  they  read  fluently,  which  interests  them  naturally,  though 
by  reason  of  grace  which  dwells  in  them,  they  study  it  and  hold 
converse  with  it,  only  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of 
souls.  Thus  they  have  the  thoughts,  sympathies,  feelings,  attrac- 
tions, antipathies  of  others,  so  far  as  these  are  not  sinful,  only  tliey 
hove  these  properties  of  human  nature  purified,  sanctified,  and  ex- 
alted."*    Of  the  latter  class  was  Catherine  McAuley. 

"But  before  all  things  have  charity  :"  this  was  her  motto.  la 
every  liuman  being  she  recognizr !  (-  -Vs  image,  and  she  loved  all  His 
images  for  the  sake  of  the  1  ;>  .  'f'iginal.  When  a  little  child, 
she  pleaded  lovingly  for  tiic  po  '.  .*>  rhe  sat  on  her  father's  knee  ; 
later  on,  she  offers  to  undergo  the  ]>uniohincnt  awarded  to  her  sis- 
ter's childish  errors,  and  weeps  at  tlie  very  tlionght  of  the  physical 
pain  inflicted  on  her  idle  brother.  Now  she  piteousiy  bewails  tho 
fate  of  the  poor  girls  she  had  made  such  efforts  to  rescue ;  again  she 


*  Dt,  Newiimii.    Hormuii  on  the  Coi)V«r«lon  of  St.  Pitul. 


lieri'T 


LIFE  OP   CATHARINE   JJCaULET. 


133 


her  founda- 
iick,  out  of 
;real«-St  con- 
ivith  others. 
!ely  left  him 
ire  arc,  liow- 
cm  to  think, 
dimply  sapor- 
of  the  very 
sec,  in  \\hom 
erscding  it — 
not  the  less 
their  natural 
vcr  ;  they  do 
ut  only  Irans- 
nderstand  the 
ads  of  others. 
3  of  purity  and 
id  aberrations 
them  a  book 
urally,  though 
y  it  and  hold 
salvation  of 
jeliiigs,  attrac- 
iful,  only  they 
itificd,  and  cx- 

er  motto.  In 
c  loved  all  His 
ft  little  child, 
I'lUhcr's  knee  ; 
led  to  her  sis- 
tho  physical 
sly  bewails  the 
icue ;  again  she 

Tuul. 


devotes  herseir  to  almost  complete  solitude  to  nurse  her  dying 
friends.  Slie  would  rather  endure  annoyance  and  iiicoiivciiicncc 
for  five  years,  than  run  tlie  risk  of  wounding  tiie  feelings  of  a  poor 
siiiipleton.  She  now  devotes  her  wealth,  iier  exertions,  her  life,  to 
the  alleviation  of  human  misery,  for  slie  knows  that  in  making  peo- 
ple linppy  she  makes  tiiem  gooil.  ller  gifts  were  amplified  in  value 
by  the  grace  with  which  she  bestowed  them  ;  t-he  was  the  obliged 
"party,  not  those  who  afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  doing  good. 
Her  words  were  spoken  with  a  winning  sweetness  which  was  * 
delicious  music  in  tlio  cars  of  tlie  unfortunate,  and  she  wished  to 
spend  herself  and  be  spent  in  the  service  of  tlie  poor.  In  appear- 
ance, talents,  and  accomplishments,  in  dignity  of  bearing,  in  fascina^ 
tlon  of  manner,  in  that  beautiful  suavity  whicli  makes  every  feature 
eloquent,  Catherine  was  greatly  superior  to  the  average  of  her  sex  ; 
but  all  her  gifts,  natural  and  supernatural,  were  used  for  the  glory 
of  the  Giver.  To  us  she  seems  like  a  magnificent  edifice,  perfect 
in  its  proportions  and  complete  in  its  details,  whose  appearance  is 
easily  described,  but  whose  windows  are  rarely  opened  to  those  will) 
would  gladly  gaze  on  the  treasures  within.  To  her  charity  every 
page  of  this  work  tcftifies  ;  to  her  mortification,  the  discipline,  wet 
with  her  blood,  laid  aside  only  the  day  before  her  death,  bears  wit- 
ness ;  and  what  could  be  more  eloquent  of  the  abnegation,  the 
unselfishness  of  her  beautiful  character,  than  the  only  complaint 
the  deiith-cough  wrung  from  her :  "  I  have  grown  very  trouble- 
some ;  I  cough  all  night,  and  .so  disturb  the  poor  Sisters." 

In  his  Introduction  to  a  Memoir  of  the  Foundress,  the  Venerable 
Archdeacon  O'Brien  says  : 

"The  whole  character  of  St.  Malachy,  as  stated  by  St.  Bernard, 
was  so  like  that  of  Catherine  McAulcy,  that  we  may  with  much 
propriety  insert  it  here. 

"  '  For,  to  be  silent  aiwut  his  inner  man,  the  beauty,  fortitude, 
and  purity  of  which  were  sufficiently  shown  by  his  manners  and 
life,  he  governed  his  exterior  always  in-  one  and  the  same  w.iy,  and 
that  most  modest  and  l)econiing,  so  that  notliing  whatever  appeared 
in  him  which  could  offend  the  beholders.  *  *  *  jj,|t,  jn  ^-xl. 
achy,  what  man  ever  watching  him  very  norrowly,  could  perceive, 
I  will  not  say  an  idle  word,  but  even  an  idle  gesture  7    When  was 


...l; : 


mmmM 


134 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


he  ever  seen  to  move  Land  or  foot  without  a  purpose  ?  When 
was  anglit  discdifying  seen  in  his  gait,  his  aspect,  his  manner,  his 
countenance  ?  Every  thing  in  him  was  under  discipline  ;  every- 
thing was  the  very  criteriiu  of  virtue,  the  very  form  of  perfec- 
tion.' 

"The  events  of  her  life  are  like  the  lapiduli  of  a  grand  mosaic  : 
each  of  them  is  a  small  thing,  but  tlic  combination  of  them  makes 
such  a  picture  as  rivals  the  glory  of  the  pencil,  and  makes  the 
cold  stone  breathe  like  the  canvas  of  Ilaphael.  Every  event 
was  ordinary,  but  the  convergency  of  »il  was  little  less  than 
miraculous." 

Elsewhere,  having  quoted  from  the  process  of  St.  Teresa's 
canonization.  Dr.  O'Brien  says :  "  The  facts  which  the  Sacred 
Congregation  of  tiie  Rota  describes  as  evidence  of  the  heroic  vir- 
tue of  St.  Teresa  come  out  in  those  of  Mother  McAuley's  life  with 
a  facility  which  niukes  the  language  of  the  Rota  only  like  a  de- 
duction from  the  pages  now  given  to  the  public." 
•  If  you  saw  her  for  a  single  day  visiting  the  sick,  consoling  tho 
nfiBicted,  advising  the  rich,  and  qjilisting  their  co-operation  in  her 
plans  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  you  might  say  :  Surely  such  a  one 
can  have  little  time  for  prayer,  or  even  for  rest.  But  if  you  en- 
joyed the  still  greater  privilege  of  intimate  acquaintance  with  her, 
you  might  wonder  how  one  gifted  with  so  eminent  a  spirit  of  prayer 
should  ever  leave  the  sweet  repose  of  contemplation.  But  in 
prayer  or  action,  the  imitation  of  Jesus  Christ  was  her  sole  aim. 
He  visited  the  sick,  and  wrought  miracles  for  their  relief ;  she,  too, 
will  relieve  them.  lie  blessed  and  caressed  little  children  ;  and  for, 
Ilis  sake  she  will  suffer  them  to  come  tu  her.  Oh,  how  she  loved 
these  little  ones,  how  she  labored  to  preserve  iu  them  the  lovely 
grace  of  baptismal  innocence  I  Fall  flowers  are  very  beautiful, 
but  they  have  little  or  no  perfume.  Not  so  the  fragrant  violets 
and  primroses  of  the  merry  spring-time.  Tho  sinner  must  say,  "  I 
have  gone  astray  like  a  sheep  that  was  lost  ;  Lord,  seek  Thy  ser- 
vant !"  and  it  is  well  if  he  can  add  :  "  because  in  oil  my  wande^ 
ings  I  have  never  forgotten  Thy  commandments."  But  innocence, 
in  the  abashed  confidence  of  its  simplicity,  may  boldly  look  up  to 
God  and  soy,  "  Trcservc  me,  for  I  am  holy."     Beautiful  was  the 


LIFE   OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEr. 


135 


i  mt 


)se  ?    When 

manner,  hia 

iline  ;  cvery- 

m  of  perfec- 

•and  mosaic ; 
them  makes 
id  makes  the 
Every  event 
:le  less  than 

St.  Teresa's 
1  the  Sacred 
:he  heroic  vir- 
iley'8  life  with 
nly  like  a  de- 
consoling  the 
oration  in  her 
ely  such  a  one 
5ut  if  you  en- 
ance  with  her, 
ipirit  of  prayer 
ition.     But  in 

her  sole  aim. 
;licf ;  she,  too, 
Idrcn  ;  and  for, 
how  she  loved 
;m  the  lovely 
very  beautiful, 
Vagrant  violets 
ir  must  say,  "  I 
,  seek  Thy  ser- 
all  my  wander- 
But  innocence, 
Idly  look  up  to 
uutiful  was  the 


charity  which  inspired  her  to  labor  in  striving  to  preserve  unsullied 
in  her  little  ones  the  virgin  robe  of  baptism. 

The  spirit  of  charity  with  which  she  was  so  eminently  endowed 
was  kept  alive  by  i)rayer,  frequentation  of  the  sacraments,  and 
spiritual  reading.  Intercessory  prayer  and  pious  conversation  were 
her  favorite  weapons.  "  Speak  to  God  about  man  ;  speak  to  man 
about  God  ;"  this  was  her  practice. 


II 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Slotlicr  ilcAiilcy's  associates  nssmne  a  dif^tiiiclivo  ilreBS.— Ilor  rclntives  nrgii 
hiT  to  innrry. — Mnjor  W.'s  ooiiotiiiicy.  — A  Bccnc— An  nmii.siiig  iiiuidciit. — 
Miiry  Tcrosii  not  allowed  tn  nsaocinto  wiUi  lier  luiiit,— Tlio  C'aptiiiii's  theology. — 
His  leccllcotions  of  Wutuiloo.— Seventy  iiiij  tiiiKliicss. — Intolerance  on  the 
decrouse. — Dr.  William  McAuley's  death. — A  seena  between  the  guiiriliuns  of 
liir  children. 

"  From  thy  burning  Iicart'it  rocesses 
Brightly  bonmcd  its  flame  around, 
Not  a  tlbru  in  it  trembled 
To  no  earthly,  soliish  Bound. 

"  Meek  and  gentle  was  thy  bearing, 
Sweetness  from  thy  lips  distilled, 
And  the  peace  of  heaven  rested 
Where  tliy  hand  a  sorrow  healed. 

'*  Love  of  God,  and  lovo  fraternal, 
Mingled  in  thy  gentle  breast, 
From  their  sweetness  sprang  the  Ordbb 
In  whose  loving  arms  we  rest." 


WE  have  already  stated  that  Catherine  had  not  the  remotest 
idea  of  fouiKliii}>;  a  religious  institute.  It  was  her  design 
that  her  associates  should  be  scculivr  ladies,  willing  to  devote  their 
leisure  to  the  poor,  and  at  perfect  liberty  to  withdraw  when  they 
pleased.  "  Yet,"  says  one  of  her  early  associates,  "  God  so  directed 
her  mind  and  actions,  tiiat  a  convent  became  a  kind  of  necessity. 
Gradually  the  interior  life  took  the  perfect  shape  to  which  it  has 
tended  for  ages,  and  the  external  occupations  and  relations  began 
to  harmonize  with  it  in  such  a  manner,  tliat  all  things  became  too 
like  monastic  life  to  be  permitted  iniless  under  monastic  rule  ;  and 
hcnco  monastic  rule  came  at  lust,  in  God's  own  time  and  manner." 
The  house  was  already  built  and  furnisiied  in  conventual  style. 
When  the  ludies  who  assisted  her  began  playfully  to  call  each  other 


■Tirnitiitiirxj.ifirT..T '—  V.  "TjigSiaBfc-^: 


LIFE  OF  CATHESINE  MCAULEY. 


137 


relatives  urg(i 
wg  iiiciJciit. — 
ii's  ihi'oloify.— 
eraiice  on  the 

IC  gUHr''.ittll8  of 


the  remotest 
as  her  design 
0  devote  their 
nv  when  they 
od  so  directed 
of  necessity, 
which  it  has 
jlations  began 
rs  became  too 
tic  rule  ;  and 
and  manner." 
iventu.d  style. 
;all  each  other 


"  Sister  ;"  when  they  naturally,  as  it  were,  commenced  to  dress  in 
a  style  grave  as  their  occupations  ;  when,  for  convenience'  salfc,  they 
took  a  spare  moal  on  the  premises,  and  often  refused  to  return  to 
their  luxurious  homes  after  the  labors  of  the  day, — then  tlic  Foun- 
dress saw  timt  a  higher  mind  than  hers  had  planned  an  institulo 
different  from  what  she  contemplated.  However,  she  prayed  on, 
continuing  to  take  the  will  of  God  as  it  came,  without  desiring  to 
see  further. 

Her  relations  soon  perceived  that  Baggot-street  House  was 
chiefly  occupied  by  persons  whom  they  could  not  consider  as  visitors. 
Previously  tliey  had  been  satisfied  with  her  determination  to  lead 
a  single  life — perhaps  they  interpreted  her  resolution  as  a  probable 
reversion  of  her  property  to  tiiem — but  now  that  her  charities  were 
conducted  on  a  scale  that  would  ultimately  exhaust  the  wealth  of 

a  Rothscliild,  they  eagerly  pressed  her  to  marry.    Major  W , 

of  Belleviie,  had  never  given  up  the  hope  of  obtaining  her  hand  ; 
and,  as  he  feared  to  speak  for  himself  after  so  many  refusals,  her 
brother  undertook  to  plead  his  cause,  but  not  succeeding,  he  re- 
proached her  with  being  foolish  for  rejecting  an  offer  that  would 
make  her  mistress  of  Bellevue  Hou-ic. 

"  I  quitted  a  nicer  house  than  that,  James,"  said  she,  with  a 
smile.  "Yes,"  he  retorted,  "you  would  rather  build  this  great 
stnpid-lookhig  concern,  and  support  the  most  worthless  people  in 
the  city.  What  has  become  of  your  good  sense  ?  Those  who 
love  you  are  grieved,  aud  ashamed  of  you  ;  those  who  don't  know 
you  arc  laughing  at  you.  Give  up  these  nonsensical  whims,  and 
live  as  every  lady  does.  A  waim  welcome  still  awaits  you  at 
Bellevue." 

"  Awaits  me,  or  my  fortune  ?"  innocently  queried  the  heiress. 

"  He  does  not  want  your  fortune,  but  yourself,"  said  the  Doctor  ; 
but  his  sister  smiled  Incredulously. 

"  At  all  events,  my  dear  James,"  said  she,  "  do  not  bring  rao 
such  proposals  again.  Nothing  could  induce  nie  to  withdraw  the 
first  free-offering  I  made  of  my  virginity  to  Gotl.  I  nm  sorry  to 
be  obliged  to  act  in  a  manner  that  pains  you,  but  when  we  know 
we  cannot  agree  on  certain  subjects,  we  ought  to  avoid  them." 

The  iiaysician  muttered  something  about  obstinacy,  not  at  all 


-;J3a 


i 


-iiii>nf' -"l-T-Hi  ■■M|*7iw»"- ■ 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


complimentary  to  his  gentle  sister.  The  Major,  who  knew  more 
about  taking  a  city  than  pressing  a  suit,  suggested  other  plaus  of 
attack,  but  he  was  at  Inst  obliged  to  declare  that  the  fortress  was 
impregnable. 

James  McAuley  was  always  on  the  defensive  in  his  sister's  pres- 
ence, especially  if  religious  topics  were  introduced.  On  all  other 
occasions  gcatlcmaniy  and  dignified,  he  would,  in  these  con- 
junctures, assume  a  roughness  that  surprised  those  who  knew  him 
well.  The  shadow  his  fine  martial  figarc  cast  in  Baggot-street, 
always  portended  a  storm.  The  sweetness  of  his  temper  was  not 
at  all  improved  by  the  fact,  that  small-pox  had  just  robbed  him  of 
the  beauty  for  which  every  member  of  his  family  was  conspicuous. 
He  had  such  an  opinion  of  his  sister's  persuasive  powers  that  he 
feared  to  discuss  any  thing  calmly  with  her  ;  he  knew  she  was  the 
better  logician,  and  he  felt  he  was  gone  if  he  yielded  ever  so  little. 
Sometimes  he  would  call  to  exhibit  his  fashionable  young  wife  in 
superb  evening  costume,  to  Catherine  and  her  associates — deter- 
mined that  if  they  would  not  go  out  to  see  the  world,  he  would 
bring  as  much  of  the  world  as  he  could  in  to  them.  "  Leave  her 
here,  James,"  his  sister  would  say  archly,  "she  will  be  much 
fresher  in  the  morning  than  she  would  be  after  the  fatigue  of  a 
Castle  ball."  But  James,  who  knew  better  than  to  run  such  a 
risk,  would  frankly  confess  that  he  would  not  trust  Eleanor  in  her 
company  for  the  world. 

In  1828,  Mary  Teresa  McAuley  manifested  a  dangerous  tendency 
to  consumption,  to  counteract  which  her  father  and  uncle  used  all 
their  skill.  Knowing  that  gentle  exercise,  change  of  air  and  scene, 
and  above  all,  habitual  cheerfulness,  are  of  more  importance  in  pul- 
monary complaints  than  the  whole  pharmacopoeia,  they  permitted 
the  young  lady  to  go  where  she  pleased,  though  they  objected  to 
her  remaining  long  within  the  sphere  of  her  aunt's  influence.  Yet 
Baggot-street  agreed  better  with  her  than  the  military  road  ;  her 
aunt's  care  never  failed  to  restore  the  bloom  to  her  cheek.  And 
Mother  McAuloy,  anxious  to  prevent  bad  influence  on  her  sister's 
children,  if  she  could  not  procure  them  good  influence,  used  still 
to  t;pend  as  much  time  as  she  possibly  could  at  her  brother-in-law's 
house.     This  was  a  necessary  precaution,  for  Dr.  William,   whose 


W«M^ 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


189 


knew  more 
ler  plains  of 
fortress  vras 

sister's  pres- 
3n  all  otbcr 
,  these  con- 
10  knew  him 
laggot-street, 
Qper  was  not 
obbed  him  of 
1  conspicuous. 
)wcrs  that  he 
r  she  was  the 
ever  so  little, 
young  wife  in 
ciates — deter- 
arld,  he  would 
"  Leave  her 
(vill  be  much 
I  fatigue  of  a 
0  run  such  a 
Eleanor  in  her 

erous  tendency 
uncle  used  all 
air  and  scene, 
ortftncc  in  pul- 
Lhcy  permitted 
ey  objected  to 
uflucuce.    Yet 
ary  road ;  her 
r  cheek.     And 
!  on  her  sister's 
cncc,  used  still 
jrother-in-law'a 
VlUiara,  whose 


motto  was,  "  Any  thing  but  Romanism,"  u.=eJ  to  allow  every  ranting 
preacher  that  came  that  way  free  access  to  his  children.     One  of  Ids 

most  frequent  guests,  a  certain  Captain  D ,  who  had  great 

influence  over  liiiii,  and  a  general  invitation  to  his  house,  feared 
Miss  McAiil  'y  as  an  emissary  of  the  Holy  See,  and  had  vague 
notions  that  she  had  received  some  secret  commission  to  plan  and 
executo  thin- s  of  dreadful  import  to  the  Church  by  law  established. 
lie  determined  that  the  children  should  not  suffer  from  the  con- 
tagion of  hcT  example,  as  their  mother  had.  He  had  taken  up 
"  views"  on  justification  by  faith  alone,  which  he  pushed  very  far, 
not  farther,  however,  than  he  who  said  :  "  Sin,  but  believe  the 
more  firmly."  He  used  to  assure  the  little  circle  at  the  Doctor's, 
that  no  one  could  do  any  thing  good,  not  even  himself :  the  latter 
clause  was  seldom  disputed  by  those  who  knew  him  best.  One 
Saturday  evening  Mother  McAuley  sent  Miss  Warde,  a  lady  of 
whom  we  shall  speak  uguin,  to  coax  the  Doctor  to  allow  Mary 
Teresa  to  return  with  her,  that  she  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
hearing  Mass  on  Sunday.  Her  aunt  always  found  means  to  con- 
trive such  an  opportunity,  but  this  time  the  father  refu.sed,  and 
Miss  Warde  refused  to  return  without  her.  At  length  he  yielded, 
however,  and  had  scarcely  done  so  when  the  Captain  entered. 
Curious  to  find  out  where  the  ladies  were  going,  he  insisted  on 
joining  young  James  McAuley  to  escort  them  to  their  destination. 
When  Baggot-street  was  named,  the  Captain  said  :  "  Why,  Doctor, 
I  was  not  aware  you  had  friends  in  that  quarter."  But  this  c'o- 
servation  elicited  no  reply.  By  the  time  they  reached  "  the  big 
foolish-looking  house,''  twilight  had  merged  into  darkness.  The 
Captain  jumped  off,  and  cautioning  the  ladies  not  to  stir,  he  ap> 
proached  the  door,  peeped  through  the  windows,  snuffed  the  air 
proceeding  from  what  ought  to  be  the  kitchen  ;  he  then  stood  out 
in  the  grounds  and  gazed  intently  on  the  large  mansion,  whose  out- 
lines were  faintly  discernible  in  the  increasing  darkness.  But  no 
light  gleamed 

"  From  wiiulow  or  ciiRcincnt, 
From  ghrret  or  biiseiiiciit." 

After  carefully  reconnoitring  he  returned  to  the  carriage,  and  the 
young  people  were  almost  convulsed  with  suppressed  laughter  as 


h 


>  m 


140 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  JfCAULET. 


he  pathetically  exclaimed  :  "  Ladles,  yoa  must  not  alight  here. 
Sec,  there  is  uo  light,  and  uot  a  sound  could  I  hear.  The  house  is 
uninhabited,  or  if  any  one  docs  live  there,  it  is  evident  all  is  not 
right,  else  why  such  mystery ':"  They  told  him  it  was  Miss 
McAuley's  rc.-idence.  "Oh,"  he  cried  contomptuous'y,  "Miss  Mc- 
Auley's  folly.  She  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  her  money." 
With  much  ado,  he  permitted  them  to  enter,  but  threatened  Mary 
Teresa  that  he  would  insist  on  her  father's  not  permitting  her  to 
visit  such  suspicious-looking  places  in  future. 

Tlie  Captain,  fully  convinced  that  he  could  do  nothing  pood, 
does  not  seem  to  have  often  tried,  lie  was,  however,  obsequiously 
polite.  If  a  lady  dropped  her  glove  on  the  road  he  was  sure  to 
be  on  the  spot ;  if  the  spirited  steed  of  some  horsewoman,  not  ap- 
preciating the  value  of  his  fair  burden,  though  painfully  conscious 
of  her  iccighf,  grew  restive,  the  Captain,  whose  ubiquity  was  a 
marvel,  was  instantly  at  the  bridle.  Altogether,  he  was  one  of  the 
last  men  Catherine  would  choose  as  a  daily  companion  for  her 
nephews.  Tiiosc  who  once  saw  him  could  not  easily  forget  him. 
He  had  lost  a  fraction  of  his  frontal  cranium  in  the  carnage  of 
Waterloo,  but  by  a  masterly  surgical  operation,  the  exposed  part 
was  covered  with  a  layer  of  silver.  Ilis  j^ersonnel  thus  admitting 
silver  among  its  ingredients,  was  a  little  different  from  that  of 
other  men,  and  he  was  very  proud  of  having  contributed  by  his 
skull,  if  not  l)y  his  brains,  to  defeat  "  the  little  Corporal."  Besides, 
this  unusual  blemish  entitled  his  remains  to  an  extra  pension,  which 
made  ill-natured  peojUc  assert  that  the  lost  fraction  was  reallv  the 
most  valuable  part  of  him.  Others,  more  mathematical  than 
polite,  used  to  attempt  to  calculate  the  value  of  the  whole  man, 
from  the  fact  that  such  a  sum  was  paid  for  two  or  three  square 
inches  of  his  cranium. 

The  Captain  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  McAulcy  boys,  whom 
he  strove  to  initiate  into  the  Calvinistical  principle,  which  he  called 
"the  delusion  of  works,"  and  that  "naked  faith,"  to  the  perfect 
exercise  of  which  even  good  works,  in  his  estimation,  seemed  an 
obstacle.  They  patiently  endured  his  theology  for  sake  of  hearing 
him  recount  his  recollections  of  Waterloo,  of  the  hairbreadth 
escapes  he  made,  the  terrible  havoc  he  caused  among  the  enemy, 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCaULET. 


141 


ilight  here, 
^he  house  ia 
t  aii  is  not 
I  was  Miss 
"  Miss  Mc- 
lier  money." 
itcucd  Mary 
itting  her  to 

jlhing  good, 
obsequiously 
;  was  sure  to 
jmnn,  not  ap- 
uUy  conscious 
biqnity  was  a 
,va?  one  of  the 
lanion  for  her 
ly  forget  him. 
he  carnage  of 
exposed  part 
ihus  admitting 
from  that  of 
ributcd  by  his 
ral."     Besides, 
pension,  which 
was  reallv  the 
icniatical   than 
ic  whole  man, 
3r  three  square 

ley  boys,  whom 
hich  he  called 
to  the  perfect 
ion,  seemed  an 
ake  of  hearing 
lie  hairbreadth 
ng  the  enemy, 


w 


and  the  praise  his  bravery  elicited  fK>in  both  sides.  On  these 
points,  however,  he  kept  a  modest  silence  in  presence  of  his  com- 
rades, who,  if  they  heard  him  recounting  to  the  chiKlren  the  mar- 
vellous instances  in  wiiich  lie  "  stood  fire,"  might  have  volunteered 
an  opinion  that  the  only  thing  of  the  salamander  about  him  was 
hia  silver  frontispiece. 

When  he  and  young  James  McAnley  returned  from  Baggot- 
strect,  they  found  the  Doctor  in  his  library. 

"Why  docs  your  sister-in-law  live  in  that  strange  manner?" 
said  the  Captain. 

"  That's  her  own  business,"  retorted  the  physician,  abruptly,  for 
Baggot-street  House  was  a  sore  subject  with  him.  lie  regarded 
it  as  the  offspring  of  the  only  "  crazy  nook"  in  the  head  of  the 
wisest  woman  he  ever  knew. 

"  But  why  allow  yonr  daughter  to  go  there  ?"  persisted  the 
Captain.    "  That's  your  affair,  surely." 

A  long  conversation  ensued,  and  the  guest  withdrew  only  when 
he  perceived  that  his  logic  bad  taken  effect.  From  that  time,  it 
was  all  but  impossible  for  Mary  Teresa  to  visit  Baggot-street,  nor 
could  the  aunt  see  her  nieces  and  nephews  except  in  presence  of  a 
third  party.  Yet  the  Doctor's  sentiments  in  time  became  con- 
siderably modified.  The  Captain  used  his  influence  in  season  and 
out  of  season,  but  there  was  a  higher  power  at  work. 

Dr.  McAuley's  bigotry  was  rather  the  result  of  his  sincerity 
than  of  unkiuduess.  Had  he  been  in  power,  ho  might  have  per- 
secuted those  who  differed  from  him  in  religious  matters  ;  but  if  bo 
did  so,  it  would  not  be  from  cruelty,  but  from  an  imaginary  sense 
of  duty,  and  in  compliance  with  the  almost  irresistible  dictates  of 
an  invincibly  erroneous  conscience.  To  convert  them,  he  would 
never  think  of  "beseeching  them  by  the  mildness  and  benignity  of 
Christ ;"  and  as  a  ruler,  he  would  not  have  borne  the  sword  in 
vaiu.  From  his  own  peculiar  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  he 
deemed  rigor  a  duty.  "  The  smallest  crime  deserves  death,  and  I 
know  of  no  greater  punishment,"  said  Draco.  There  have  been 
Christians,  whose  views  nearly  coincided  with  those  of  the  rigid 
heathen  ,  but  such  persons,  im  .ipablc  of  making  allowances  for  the 
Bhortcomiags  of  poor  fallen  nature,  could  never  become  wise  or 


142 


n 


lilFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


'ndicioas  rnliTs.  And  their  nnsparing  censures  of  the  sins  and 
frailties  of  their  poor  fellow-creatures,  contrasts  strongly  with  the 
mercy  of  the  Divine  Lawgiver,  who  knoweth  our  frame. 

"  Tiie  law  of  Moses  commands  as  to  stone  such  a  one,  but  what 
gayest  Thou  ?" 

"  Let  him  that  is  without  sin  amongst  you  cast  the  first  stone." 

But  on  this  condition  not  one  of  them  could  stone  her,  and  they 
all  quietly  slipped  awaj'. 

"  Hath  no  mau  condemned  thee  ?"  asked  the  meek  Lamb  of  God  ; 
to  whom  the  sinful  woman  replied  :  'No  man,  Lord.'" 

"  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee.     Go,  now,  and  sin  no  more." 

This  exquisite  passage  from  the  public  life  of  our  Lord  would, 
of  itself,  suflSce  to  show  that  "  the  Word  was  Ood." 

Though  Dr.  McAuley's  theories  in  doctrine  and  morals  were  so 
severe,  in  every-day  life  he  was  one  of  the  kindest  of  men.  As  he 
became  more  intimately  acquainted  wich  his  sister-in-law,  his  in- 
flexibility began  insensibly  to  relax,  and  towards  the  end  of  his 
career,  he  cr-'d  not  help  respecting  the  religion  which  impelled  her 
to  such  he  irtue  and  continued  self-sacrifice.  He  would  even 
read  CatL  )oks,  and  listen  to  an  explanation  of  Catholic 

dogmas,  thus  giving  her  hope  that  he  might  one  day  become  a  do- 
cile child  of  that  Church  so  long  the  object  of  his  abhorrence.  In 
February,  1829,  he  called  at  Baggot-street,  and  complained  to  her 
of  feeling  a  strange  weakness  and  oppression.  Poor  man,  the 
death-grasp  was  on  him,  and  he  came  to  consult  her  in  preference 
to  any  physician.  She  induced  him  to  return  home  directly,  and 
summon  the  best  medical  attendance.  Next  day,  he  rallied  a  good 
deal,  but  seeing  his  beautiful  child  fatigued  by  her  filial  care  of 
him,  he  desired  her  aunt  to  keep  her  at  Baggot-street  till  he  re- 
covered. 

About  midnight,  a  loud  ringing  and  knocking  interrupted  the 
uneasy  slumbers  of  Catherine,  and  on  raising  her  window,  the 
Doctor's  coachman  informed  her  that  his  master  waa  dying.  In  a 
few  minutes,  the  aunt  and  niece  were  on  their  way  to  the  sick  man. 
They  found  him  better  than  they  expected,  but  evidently  sinking. 
He  revived,  however,  and  began  to  speak  of  religion.  He  said 
that  ho  would  become  a  Catholic  instantly,  if  he  could  believe  what 


i.»    II"   wwUMhar* 


ic  sins  and 
ly  with  the 

ic,  but  what 

first  Btone." 
ler,  and  they 

arab  of  God ; 

lO  more." 
Lord  would, 

norala  were  so 
•  men.    As  ho 
-in-law,  his  vor 
the  end  of  his 
ch  impelled  her 
de  would  even 
on  of  Catholic 
ly  become  a  do- 
abhorrence.    In 
[mplained  to  her 
Poor  man,  the 
er  in  preference 
jc  directly,  and 
le  rallie('  a  good 
jer  filial  care  of 
[treet  till  he  re- 
interrupted  the 
Ler  window,  the 
fas  dying.    la  a 
1  to  the  sick  man. 
Ividcntly  siuliing. 
jligion.    He  said 
ouldbelierewbat 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


143 


Catholics  belieye.  "  You  know,"  said  he,  "  the  rank  prejudice  in 
which  I  was  reared,  but  I  desire  to  belong  to  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,  wliatever  that  is," 

She  suggested  acts  of  faith,  hope,  charity,  and  contrition,  which 
he  made  with  gieat  fervor.  "  I  will  consider  the  subject  of  religion 
more  maturely  when  I  grow  stronger,"  said  he.  "  I  desire  only  to 
find  out  the  right  way."  The  physicians  thought  all  danger  over 
for  the  present,  and  left  the  patient  to  his  nurse.  He  said  he  would 
like  to  sleep  a  little,  and  desired  her  to  take  Mary  Teresa  to  Bag- 
got-street,  adding  that  she  would  be  neglected  during  his  illness  if 
she  stayed  at  home.  Catherine  very  reluctantly  complied  with  this 
request.  They  had  hardly  reached  Baggot-street  when  they  were 
again  summoned.  They  were  borne  to  the  Doctor's  as  fast  as 
the  tired  horses  could  bear  them,  but  their  speed  was  vain  ;  he  had 
had  an  apoplectic  stroke,  and  as  they  entered  his  room  he  breathed 
his  last. 

It  were  needless  to  describe  the  clamorous  grief  of  his  five  chil- 
dren. Catherine's  afl9iction  was  great ;  she  loved  and  esteemed 
him  fji-  his  integrity,  his  sterling  worth,  and  his  fidelity  to  her  sis- 
ter's memory.  By  his  will,  which  had  been  drawn  up  before  his 
illness,  he  appointed  Dr.  James  McAuley  and  Catherine  Elizabeth 
McAuley  joint  guardians  of  his  children,  leaving  them  free  to 
choose  either,  and  inserting  a  special  clause  that  their  religion  most 
be  left  entirely  to  their  own  choice. 

It  was  not  surprising  that  Mary  Teresa  chose  her  aunt,  but 
when  James,  Robert,  and  little  Catherine  made  the  same  selection, 
the  amazement  and  chagrin  of  their  uncle  was  very  great.  Even 
little  Willie,  the  pet  and  plaything  of  the  family,  spoiled  almost 
past  redemption,  joined  in  the  general  chorus :  "  I'll  go  to  my 
annt." 

Her  brother  suggested  that  she  was  no  fit  guardian  for  these 
children,  and  said  that  he  would  not  allow  his  nieces  to  live  amon^' 
the  people  she  entertained  at  Baggot-street.  She  mildly  observed 
that  since  they  had  chosen  her,  she  would  be  careful  to  have  them 
brought  up  as  befitted  their  condition.  The  girls  she  took  to 
Baggot-street,  which  now  became  her  own  home,  and  the  boys  she 
determined  to  send  to  St.  Patrick's  College,  Carlow,  of  which  her 


II' 


.w-i^s^ 


lU 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


friend,  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  was  president.  While  preparing  for  col- 
lege tliev  slept  at  tlie  house  of  a  friend  in  the  vicinity  of  Daggot- 
Btreit  aiid  spent  each  day  with  their  sisters.  The  boys  wore  very 
easily'  managed,  except  Willie,  who  was  every  cne's  tease,  and 
every  one's  darling.  Many  a  fright  he  gave  his  good  aunt  while 
he  enjoyed  her  hospitality. 

The  Institute  continued  to  make  rapid  progress.  In  1829  sev- 
eral of  the  ladies  who  assisted  in  the  schools  manifested  a  desire 
to  reside  entirely  on  the  premises.  The  order  and  discipline  ob- 
served, the  stated  times  of  prayer  and  silence,  the  responsibility 
which  naturally  devolved  on  the  Foundress,  and  made  others  apply 
to  her  for  direction,  gave  the  Institute  more  the  appearance  and 
character  of  a  Convent  than  the  pious  projector  had  anticipated. 


a :... 


i 


iring  for  col- 
ty  of  Daggot- 
oys  were  very 
e'8  tease,  and 
lod  aunt  while 

In  1829  sev- 
lifestcd  a  desire 
I  discipline  ob- 
e  responsibility 
,dc  others  apply 
appearance  and 
i  anticipated. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Tlio  O'ConncU  fnmily.— Tho  Liberator  a  Scruple  Doctor.— His  ppecch  in  a 
school-room. — His  interest  iu  the  new  Institute. — Uo  diues  with  the  poor 
children. 

DANIEL  O'CONNELL  was  one  of  the  earliest  friend.s  of  the 
rising  Institute.  He  had  been  for  some  time  acquainted  with 
Bxis.s  MeAuley,  and  his  keen  pen'-tration  soon  discovered  beneath  the 
vt'il  of  her  meekness  and  humility,  a  great  heart  and  a  noble  soul. 
Ever  anxious  to  promote  the  moral  as  well  as  the  political  improve- 
ment of  his  country,  the  institution  in  Baggot-strcet  had,  from  its 
commencement,  his  warmest  sympathies,  and  his  truly  valuable 
patronage.  Mrs.  O'Connell  frequently  visited  the  schools,  and 
never  departed  without  leaving  a  sura  of  money  to  bo  distributed 
among  the  poor.  Her  gifted  daughters  were  among  Miss  Mc- 
A  nicy's  most  efficient  co-operators,  in  her  cfToris  to  promote  the 
education  of  poor  girls.  Mother  McAuley  often  expressed  her 
surprise  at  tlie  almost  universal  knowledge  O'Connell  seemed  to 
have.  He  appeared  aa  much  at  home  in  giving  her  counsel  as  to 
how  her  Servants'  Asylum  ought  to  be  worked,  us  he  was  in  the 
Fonv  Courts.  Wliat  surprised  her  still  more  was  the  theological 
knowledge  which  he  displayed  in  a  case  that  came  under  her  own 
observation.     The  circumstances  were  thCfcC  : 

A  number  of  his  family,  who  did  not  reiiido  with  him,  became 
liorriiL)ly  tormented  by  scruples.  To  go  to  confession  was  a  mar- 
tyrdom, to  go  to  Holy  Communion  seemed  an  impossibility.  Every 
devotional  exercise  was  a  fresh  torture  ;  an]  if  each  were  made  a 
dozen  times  over,  the  poor  lady  was  still  ceririn  that  some  words 
had  ')ecn  omitted,  that  some  distraction  rendered  the  good  work 
Biiifiii,  or  that  the  intention  not  being  8ensil)Iy  pnre,  was  surely  bad. 
Only  those  wlio  have  passed  through  .i  similar  ordeal  can  appreci- 
ate the  agony  of  6uch  a  state  of  mind  ;  and  whether  the  Repealer 

7 


f  m 


^i  H ,  I  #  viiimmmm^a^fi^f^ 


J 


.-i-c;-.-~ 


146 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


I!.  ; 

i  ''  i 


Ml 


If.- 


himself,  hdd  passed  through  it  or  not,  we  cannot  say — but  ho  could 
guide  one  through  it  with  a  success  that  many  spiritual  directors 
niigiit  ciiyy.  In  a  series  of  letters  he  wrote  to  th's  lady,  he 
discerns  between  the  various  kinds  of  scruples,  giving  signs  to  dis- 
tinguish whether  they  come  from  the  Divine,  the  human,  or  the 
diabolical  spirit.  He  insists  on  the  implicit  obedience  the  scru- 
pulous are  peculiarly  bound  to  pay  their  confessor,  reprobates  self- 
will  in  pious  matters,  describes  many  shades  of  erroneous  con- 
sciences, and  diffusely  explains  several  runca  by  which  nature  seeks 
to  elude  grace.  As  to  the  practice  of  frequent  Communion,  about 
which  his  correspondent  seems  to  have  been  imbued  with  some 
Jansenistical  notions,  he  entirely  agrees  with  those  who  recommend 
it,  and  lucidly  expatiates  on  the  doctrines  of  the  Fathers  with  refer- 
ence to  this  subject.  These  letters  amazed  such  as  were  capable 
of  appreciating  them.  As  they  were  strictly  private  they  have 
never  been  published,  though  they  are  doubtless  in  possession  of 
some  of  his  descendants. 

•  Mother  McAuley  edified  and  instructed  her  young  associates  by 
reading  them  aloud  for  them.  That  O'Connell  should  have  some 
tincture  of  theology,  moral,  mystical,  or  dogmatic,  cannot  be  sur- 
prising, if  it  be  true,  as  is  commonly  asserted,  that  he  at  one  time 
had  thoughts  of  embracing  the  clerical  profession  ;  but  to  have 
knowledge,  and  to  apply  it  correctly,  are  two  different  things  in 
these  abstruse  matters  ;  the  first  may  be  gained  by  study,  the 
second,  as  a  general  rule,  must  come  from  practical  experience  in 
directing  souls.  Yet  the  letters  to  which  we  allude  might  have 
been  written  by  Oerson,  John  of  Avila,  or  Fenelon. 

In  his  journeys  through  Ireland,  O'Connell  nearly  always  visited 
the  convents  on  liis  route.  On  these  occasions  his  reception  wod 
a  kind  of  ovation.  The  Tc  Deum  was  sung,  the  reception-rooms 
liung  with  green,  the  national  emblems,  harp,  shamrock,  and  sun- 
burst displayed,  addresses  were  read  by  the  pupils,  and  any  request 
he  asked,  implicitly  granted.  His  manner  at  such  scenes  was 
peculiarly  happy.  To  a  young  girl  who  had  delivered  a  flattering 
address  to  the  "  Conquering  Hero,"  he  said  very  graciously,  that 
he  "  rf  greltcd  her  sex  precluded  her  from  that  distinguished  place 
in  the  imperial  souate,  to  which  her  elocutionary  abilities  entitled 


i-C  .- 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


UT 


r — but  ho  could 
ritual  directors 
)  th's  lady,  1ib 
ipg  signs  to  dis- 
>  human,  or  the 
lience  the  scru- 
rcprobatcs  self- 
erroneous  con- 
ich  nature  seeks 
immunion,  about 
ibued  with  some 
who  recommend 
ithers  with  refer- 
as  were  capable 
rivate  they  have 
in  possession  of 

ung  associates  by 
should  have  some 
c,  cannot  be  sur- 
it  he  at  one  time 
on  ;  but  to  have 
ifferent  things  in 
icd  by  study,  the 
ical  experience  in 
ude  might  have 
on. 

rly  always  visited 

ii<i  reception  was 

c  reception-rooms 

lanirock,  and  san- 

s,  and  any  request 

such  scenes  was 

vered  a  flattering 

graciously,  that 

istinguished  place 

y  abilities  eutltlcd 


Ler."  Then  glancing  at  the  g\rls  who  surrounded  the  oratress,  ho 
continued,  with  emotion  : 

"  Often  have  I  listened  with  nerve  unstrung,  nnd  heart  unmoved, 
to  the  calumny  and  invective  of  our  national  enemies  ;  but  to-day, 
as  I  look  on  the  beautiful  young  virgins  of  Erin,  my  herculean 
frame  quivers  with  emotion,  and  the  unbidden  tear  moistens  my 
eye.  Can  such  a  race  continue  in  ignoble  bondage  ?  Arc  yoa 
born  for  no  better  lot  than  slavery  ?  No,"  he  continued,  with 
increasing  vehemence,  "  you  shall  be  free  ;  your  country  shall  yet 
be  a  nation  ;  you  shall  not  become  the  mothers  of  slaves?''* 

It  is  unnecessary  to  add,  that  the  children  who  listened  to  this 
outburst  of  patriotism  became  Repealers  on  the  spot.  In  Mother 
McAuley's  letters  O'Connell  and  his  speeches  are  often  mentioned  ; 
the  latter,  she  says,  "  have  quite  brought  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  into 
fashion."  Later  on  we  shall  give  a  specimen.  She  often  spoke  of 
the  edification  it  must  give  to  sec  so  great  a  man  not  only  a  prac- 
tical Catholic,  but  a  most  devout  one.  And  though  she  never 
meddled  in  politics,  she  was  glad  to  see  that  the  master-spirit  of 
the  political  agitation  of  her  country  had  taken  for  his  motto : 
"  The  greatest  revolution  ever  made  id  not  worth  a  drop  of  human 
blood." 

Out  of  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Infancy,  Mother  McAuley  estab> 
lisbed  a  pious  custom  of  entertaining  all  the  poor  children  of  the 
neighborhood,  as  well  as  the  inmates  of  the  House,  at  dinner  every 
Christmas*day. 

Tiii.1  was  commenced  in  1827.  O'Connell  presided,  nnd  even 
dined  with  the  poor  little  ones,  some  of  whom  could  hardly  get  a 
good  meal  till  Christmas  came  again.  IIo  had  a  pleasant  word 
for  every  one  of  them,  and  their  lean,  sickly  foces  soon  i  "fleeted 
the  happiness  of  his  fine,  good-humored  countenance.  When  in 
Dublin,  O'Connell  always  presided  at  this  monster  dinner.  The 
custom  of  entertaining  the  poor,  especially  children,  on  Christmas- 
day,  is  almost  universal  in  the  Order  of  Mercy. 


el 


,»JM»|HB|««JI* 


"••■ 


C^    APTEK  XIV. 

Onr  Lnily  of  Mercy. — Accession!*.— Kcv.  Fnllior  Lcstruncc— Very  Rev.  Father 
O'lhitiloh'ii  Noviiiiito. — Tlio  Militiiry  nntl  Kcli<riona  Orilcr  of  Oiir  Lndy  of 
Mercy. — Sinters  of  Murcy  foiitvluil  by  I'riiiccss  Tercnn  Dorin. — DBilicnlion  of 
tlic  Cliiipcl  ill  Biijrirot-strcet.— Oppooition  to  tlie  Iimtitiite. — Kxtriict  from  Dr. 
Bliikc'8  ficrinon. — ('liiirital>lu  iiiKtitntioiiH  fotiiulcil  in  Ireland  diiiini;  tlie  lust 
century, — KoiindrecBcs— "  C.  McAnley,  Exq." — Severity  of  tlio  Arclibisliop. — 
AnomuloiH  position  of  the  Iimtitnte. — Dr.  BlHl<e's  kindness. — KindnesB  of 
Bcver.il  rclijfioiis  liMnses. — Tlio  I'rcsL'iiliition  Rule. — Catlicrine  enteni  Georgo'a 
IliU  Convent.— Sister  M.  Mtigdulcri  Flynn. — liidiil^^encos  grunted  to  tlie  now 
Institute, 


AFTER  some  expv'rioucc  of  the  working  of  the  new  establish- 
ment, it  was  deemed  advisalilo  to  draw  God's  blessings  more 
abundantly  on  it  by  placing  it  under  the  special  protection  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin.  The  Foundress  had  a  particular  devotion  to  Mary, 
under  the  sweet  title  Mater  MiKericordice,  and  the  Feast  of  Our 
Ludy  of  Mercy  had  always  been  her  favorite  among  the  beautiful 
festivals  that  gem.  the  Christian  year.  At  her  request,  therefore, 
the  Archbishop  kindly  permitted  the  Institute  to  be  called,  The 
Institute  of  Our  lilessed  Lady  of  Mercy.  On  the  Feast  of  St. 
Ambrose,  1828,  his'Grace  allowed  the  staff  of  the  "Institute"  to 
assume  a  di^stiiictivo  dress,  and  to  visit  the  sick.  The  uniform 
adopted  was  a  dress  of  bl.ick  cashmere,  with  a  deep  cape  of  the 
same,  and  a  small  white  collar,  A  lace  cap  and  veil  were  added  ; 
the  whole  costume  being  similar  to  that  now  worn  by  the  postu- 
lants of  the  Institute. 

Of  the  ladies  who  aided  in  lii<)  performance  of  the  works  of 
mercy  suggested  by  the  zeal  of  the  Foundress,  some,  contenting 
themselves  with  doing  well,  became  holy  wives  and  mother^,  the 
pious  works  of  their  early  years  drawing  down  God's  blessing  on 
their  after-lives  ;  while  others,  choosing,  like  Mary,  "  the  belter 
part"  of  consecrating  thcuueives  to  the  more  immediate  serrioe  of 


'cry  Rpv.  Futhor 
of  Our  I>nJy  of 
,,_Dciliciitior.  of 
Sxtriict  from  Dr. 
amine  tl'O  '»*' 
ho  Arclib'mliop. — 
.■*«.— Kindiie»»  of 
10  enters  George's 
■niilcd  to  the  now 


new  establish- 
blcssings  more 
oteciion  of  the 
rotion  to  Mary, 
Feast  of  Our 
the  beautiful 
jucst,  therefore, 
be  called,  The 
je  Feast  of  St. 
3  "  Institute"  to 
The  uniform 
;cp  cape  of  the 
eil  were  added ; 
n  by  the  posta- 

of  the  workH  of 
iome,  contenting 
[id  niothcr-s  tho 

od's  blessing  on 
iry,  "  the  better 

odiate  servioeof 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


149 


God,  were  desirous  of  joining  the  zealous  band.  The  fourth  ac- 
cession was  Mary  Teresa  McAnlpy,  who  untcred  on  the  anniver- 
sary of  her  baptism,  Nov.  22,  1829.  Tlie  fifth  was  Miss  Frances 
Teresa  Wi  Ic,  of  whom  mention  lias  been  already  mudo.  When 
this  liidy  evinced  a  desire  to  enter,  Jllother  McAuIey  rcferri'd  her 
to  her  confessor,  Rev.  Fatiicr  Lostrango,  a  Carmelite  Friar,  re- 
marking that,  in  the  important  step  of  choosing  a  state  in  life,  the 
director  is  the  surest  exponent  of  God's  will.  The  Rev.  Father 
gave  Miss  Wardo  his  full  permission  to  enter,  adding  that  he 
"  looked  on  Miss  McAiiIcy  as  a  person  raised  up  by  God  for  some 
great  and  holy  end,  which  in  time  would  be  clearly  munifcsted." 
This  young  iady  entered  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Ambrose,  1829.  Be- 
fore this,  the  house  was  so  crowded,  that  it  became  very  incon- 
venient to  send  out  its  inmates  to  Mass  and  conffssion.  The 
oratory  was  therefore  fitted  up  as  a  chapel,  and  a  chaplain  and 
confessor  appointed  by  the  Archbishop.  His  Grace  onicrcd  that 
an  addition  be  mude  to  accommodate  the  public  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, as  is  custotnary  in  Ireland,  where  most  convents  have  such  ac- 
commodation for  seculars,  the  part  occupied  by  the  Religious  being 
separated  from  the  rest  by  a  grating. 

"Very  Rev.  Mr.  O'llanlou  continued  ordinary  confessor  to  tho 
Institute  from  tho  time  of  his  appointment,  in  1828,  till  a  few 
weeks  before  his  death,  wlilch  occurred  in  18G3.  lie,  atid  indeed 
his  wliole  Order  in  Ireland,  have  been,  from  the  first,  firm  friends  of 
the  Order  of  Mercy. 

Father  O'llanlon  had  made  his  novitiate  in  Spain,  some  thirty 
years  before  he  became  connected  with  the  Order  of  Mercy.  lie 
used  sometimes  to  encourage  the  ladies  who  assisted  Miss  McAuley 
by  telling  them  how  often  he  was  on  the  point  of  losing  his  voca- 
tion, and  how,  on  one  occasion,  his  expulsion  was  actually  decided 
on,  utider  the  following  circti  instances  : 

Several  of  the  ancients  of  his  Order  having  met  to  disctiss  some 
impoi'tant  business,  the  cook,  in  his  nn.\itty  to  servo  flic  Fatlurs, 
forgot  to  prepare  dinner  for  tho  novices  ;  and  a  majority  of  the 
latter  not  being  disposed  to  fast  more  than  the  rule  required,  they 
a^ourned  to  the  garden,  where,  under  tho  friendly  shade  of  orango 
and  almond  trees,  they  enjoyed  a  delicious  though  uncooked  ro- 


il 


■ 


Ifil* 


160 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


past.  However,  a  Father,  whom  age  and  infirmity  had  snpei-an* 
nuatcd,  observing  from  his  window  the  havoc  which  was  being 
made  in  the  orchard,  gave  the  alarm,  and  the  poor  youths  were 
very  unccrenioiiionsly  disturbetl,  and  summoned  before  the  chapter 
in  session.  IJrotlier  Redmond,  as  tlie  leader,  came  in  for  the 
largest  share  of  censure,  and  was  ordered  to  prepare  for  a  homcr 
w^ard  voyage. 

Now  this  was  not  only  a  religious  disgrace,  it  was  a  national 
calamity.  The  Spanish  Fathers  had  never  before  dismissed  an 
Irishman,  but  Redmond  Joseph  O'llanlon  now  broke  the  charm. 
He  entreated  forgiveness,  promising  never  to  look  at  nice  fruit 
again  ;  he  would '  i)erfurm  the  greatest  penance,  provided  they 
would  keep  him  in  the  Order  m  any  capacity  whatever.  After 
some  discussion,  a  mild-looking  old  Father,  whom  the  novice  ever 
after  regarded  as  a  saint,  inquired  how  he  had  come  to  commit 
si'ch  a  terrible  breach  of  monastic  discipline.  The  poor  youth 
cou'.u  not  be  convicted  of  any  thing  worse  than  hunger,  aiid  some 
very  unsound  theology  on  the  subject  of  holy  poverty.  Tiie  ven- 
erable <;ld  man  pleaded  for  him,  and  the  misdemeanor,  not  so  bad 
after  all  for  a  youth  in  his  teens,  was  forgiven  ;  but  for  many  a 
day  the  very  look  of  frnit  was  enough  to  make  Brother  Redmond 
quake. 

In  concluding  this  anecdote,  the  ancient  Provincial  would  remark, 
with  great  simplicity,  that  the  novices  engaged  in  this  freak,  "  be- 
came the  most  distinguished  men  in  our  Order,  my  dear." 

This  worthy  Provincial  of  the  Carmelites  is  frequently  mentioned 
in  Mother  McAulcy's  letters.  In  one  of  them  she  says:  "There 
never  was  a  more  disiuterested  friend  than  Father  O'llanlon," 

In  1828,  the  Archbishop  desired  Miss  McAuley  to  choose  some 
name  by  which  to  designate  her  little  community.  She  inmicdiately 
selected  a  title  in  which  a  sweet  womanly  relation  is  blended  with 
the  name  of  that  Divine  attribute  so  dear  to  fallen  nature  ;  nnd, 
henceforth,  she  and  her  chililren  were  known  as  Sistkus  ok  Mercy. 
An  OrdiT  of  Mercy  had  alnjady  existed  in  the  Church,  of  which 
wo  will  give  a  rapid  sketch. 

Those  conversant  with  the  history  of  the  middle  ages,-  will  read- 
ily remember  the  horrors  perpetrated  by  Mohammedan  corsairs  oa 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


151 


ad  snpei-an* 
was  being 

youths  were 

the  chapter 
in  for  the 

for  a  homo 

a  national 
ii.smisscii  an 

the  charni. 
tt  nice  fruit 
ovided  they 
jver.    After 

novice  ever 
10  to  commit 

poor  youth 
;r,  aiid  some 
y.  Tiie  ven- 
,  not  so  bad 
t  for  many  a 
ler  Redmond 

iTOuld  remark, 
is  freak,  "  be- 
ar." 

tly  mentioned 
lays :  "There 
Ilanlon." 
)  choose  some 
ic  immediately 
blended  with 
nature  ;  nnd, 
•.R3  OF  Mercy, 
irch,  of  which 

igesj  will  read* 
laa  corsairii  OQ 


all  vessels  too  weak  to  defend  themselves.  Whole  crews  were 
often  carried  into  the  most  degrading  bondage.  Noble  and  plebeian, 
learned  and  ignorant,  old  and  young,  languished  in  the  fetid  dun- 
geons of  Moorish  tyrants  for  years,  and  sometimes  for  their  whole 
lives.  Wearied  by  the  pains  of  a  lengthened  captivity,  not  a  few 
became  miserable  renegades,  and  exchanging  the  cross  for  the  cres- 
cent, became  victims  of  a  slavery  more  degrading  than  that  to 
which  piracy  or  the  fortunes  of  war  had  reduced  them.  The 
Moors  possessed  the  fairest  portions  of  Si)ain  :  Valencia,  Catalonia, 
and  Granadu,  were  among  their  conquests.  Their  victories  spread 
terror  throughout  Southern  Europe.  They  believed  it  to  be  the 
destiny  of  Isiamism  to  exterminate  Christianity,  They  sometimes 
reckoned  among  their  captives  Christian  princes.  While  the  brave 
and  chivalrous  James  of  Aragon  was  in  captivity  among  them,  he 
vowed  that,  should  he  regain  his  freedom,  he  would  establish  some 
means  of  alleviating  the  miseries  of  poor  Christian  slaves  ;  but  his 
success  in  keeping  this  vow  was  very  po^tiol,  till  God  raised  up  a 
saint  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  for  the  r  jtivjs.  Teter  Nolasco,  a 
noble  Spaniard,  touched  with  their  niiseries,  was  inspired  to  found 
an  Order  for  their  relief.  A  vision  of  Onr  Lady  of  Mercy,  with 
which  he  was  favored,  confirmed  him  in  this  design  ;  and  in  1223 
he  received  the  habit  of  the  new  Order  from  St,  Raymond  of 
Pennafort,  who  drew  up  rules  for  the  "  Iloyjal  Militarij  and  Re- 
ligious Order  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy.''  The  objects  of  this 
Order  were  the  worku  of  mercy,  especially  the  redemption  of 
captives.  Each  member  bound  himself  by  a  vow  to  exchange 
himself  for  a  captive,  should  there  be  no  other  means  of  ransom. 
The  heroic  deeds  of  these  Redemptioners  nnd  Ransomers,  Lave 
elicited  the  warmest  approbation  of  mediaeval  historians  ;  and  well 
did  they  deserve  praise,  for  "  greater  love  than  this  no  man  hath, 
that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friend."  Whether  they  pined 
in  the  loathsome  dungeons  of  Morocco  or  Algiers,  or  preached 
in  the  slave-markets,  or  fed  the  hungry  and  instructed  the  ignorant 
at  the  gates  of  their  magnificent  coinniandcries,  they  everywhere 
diffused  the  good  odor  of  Jesus  Ciirist,  Their  white  habits  denoted 
the  innocence  of  their  lives,  the  red  cross  showed  they  were  ready 
to  shed  their  blood  in  defence  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  while  the 


m-y 


\-i  >> 


-aapf^ 


ILJJtWi*  an 


152 


LIFE   OF   CATUERINE   MCAULEY.'- 


royal  arms  of  Aragon,  intcrwo^  <'ii  with  the  cross  on  their  brmnts, 
testified  their  gratitude  to  their  most  munificent  benefactor,  King 
James  of  Aragon. 

In  consequence  of  the  altered  state  of  Europe,  this  Order  has 
declined  much  in  members  and  importance.  It  still  possesses 
houses  in  Spain,  Germany,  and  Sonth  America.  In  many  of  the 
delightful  tales  and  legends  of  the  mediajyal  period,  the  Knight,  or 
Brother  of  Mercy,  figures  conspicuously  in  his  beautiful  character, 
adding  fresh  lustre  to  the  records  of  those  chivalrous  times. 

For  this  ancient  Order  Miss  McAulcy  had  so  great  a  predilec- 
tion, that  when  she  found  she  had  almost  unconsciously  cstabllslied 
a  new  religious  Institute,  she  desired  to  adapt  St.  Peier  Nolasco's 
Order  for  women,  and  hence  her  choice  of  the  beautiful  appellation. 
Sisters  of  Mkrcy,*  and  her  design  to  make  icorL's  of  mercy  the 
distinctive  feature  of  her  Institute.  She  wished  the  members  to 
combine  the  silence,  recollection,  and  prayer  of  the  Carmelite  with 
the  active  zeal  of  a  Sister  of  Charity.  This  was  regarded  by 
many  as  chimerical,  nevertheless  she  accomplished  her  supposed 
Utopia.  Every  one  knows  that  Sisters  of  Mercy  arc  bound  to  the 
laborious  duties  of  instructing  the  ignorant,  visiting  the  sick  aud 
imprisoned,  managing  hospitals,  orphan  asylums,  and  homes  for  dis- 
tressed women  ;  but  many  are  surprised  to  learn  that  these  Sisters 
make  perpetual  vows,  observe  choir,  spend  si.\  or  seven  liours  daily 
in  spiritual  exercises,  and  nearly  a  month  of  every  year  in  retreat  ,f 

Few  are  acquainted  with  the  names  of  the  illustrious  women  who 
effected  this  combination  of  the  active  aud  contemplative  lives. 
The  eloquence  of  the  historian,  the  canvas  of  the  painter,  tlie  mar- 
ble of  the  sculptor,  hand  down  to  posterity  the  moral  and  physical 
features  of  those  who  filled  tiic  world  with  the  wuil  of  the  widow 
and  the  cry  of  the  orphan,  while  those  who  comforted  the  one  and 
dried  the  tears  of  the  otiicr  are  seldom  rescued  from  oblivion.    To 

•  Tlio  namo  SiBtcrs  of  Mcroy  (Lo  Sorollo  dolln  Miscricordia)  wn»  ndopted 
about  tlio  viuno  tiino  by  it  Society  of  Kolij^ions  foiiridcd  by  I'rinroBS  Turefia 
Doriu  ruinpliili,  iii  Koine.  Tlicy  linve  ho!<{)itul«  within  tho  oiicloHure  of  their 
nioimstery  walls. 

t  From  tho  6th  of  August  to  tho  15th,  from  the  23th  of  December  to  the  Ist 
of  JaD^)u^y,  the  first  Sunday  of  every  month,  etc. 


heir  brpftjita, 
ifactor,  King 

lis  Order  has 
ill  possesses 
many  of  the 
10  Knight,  or 
'ill  character, 
times. 

it  a  predilec- 
ly  cstaljllshcd 
iter  Nolasco's 
il  appellation, 
of  mcrey  the 
p  members  to 
larraclite  with 
regarded  by 
her  sui)posed 
bound  to  the 
:  the  sick  and 
lomes  for  dis- 
t  these  Sisters 
en  hours  daily 
ar  in  retreat  .f 
js  women  who 
nplativc  lives, 
inter,  the  raar- 
il  and  physical 
of  the  widow 
!d  the  one  and 
oblivion.    To 


tin)  wim  ndopted 

I'riuooBS  ToresB 

jiicloburo  of  iheir 

comber  to  the  \tX 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


1S8 


the  saintly  dead  this  matters  little,  but  the  world  should  not  be 
denieri  the  biographies  of  such  as  are  best  calculated  to  edify  it. 
Witliin  a  few  years  several  institutions  for  tiiv  education  of  the 
poor,  the  relief  of  the  sick,  and  other  holy  objects,  liuve  sjiruii!? 
"up  in  Ireland,  amid  unexampled  diiriculties,  and  the  very  names  of 
their  respective  originators  are  almost  unknown.  Tliis  is  not  cred- 
itable to  Ireland,  and  moreover,  it  is  an  old  failing.  Tiierc  is  com- 
paratively little  record  of  the  palmiest  days  of  the  Irish  Church, 
when  saints  were  added  to  the  Calendar  by  hundreds  ;  and  of  thtic 
little,  a  portion  is  due  to  foreigners.  Perhaps  the  interesting  events 
of  St.  Malachy's  episcopate  had  been  unknown,  had  not  St.  Ber- 
nard written  his  life,  for  the  edification  of  all  ages.* 

Catherine  was  accustomed  to  say,  that  she  never  attempted  any 
thing  for  tlie  glory  of  God  which  did  not  meet  with  the  most  de- 
termined opposition.  Her  own  relatives  were  always  her  oppo- 
nents ;  but,  circumstanced  as  she  was,  it  necessarily  hajipened  that 
her  enemies  were  of  her  own  household.  As  soon  as  her  Institute 
began  to  assume  a  distinctive  character.  Bishops,  Priests,  Religious, 
and  Seculars  assailed  her ;  many  even  deemed  it  a  good  work  to 
persecute  her.  When,  on  the  Octave  of  the  Ascension,  1829,  tho 
Archbishop  blessed  the  Cliapel,  and  dedicated  it  to  Our  Lady  of 

Mercy,  Rev.  Mr.  W was  appointed,  very  much  against  his 

will,  to  sing  the  Iligli  Mass.  At  breakfast,  he  commented  very 
severely  on  Miss  McAuley's  proceedings,  pointing  out  that  her 
associates  had  assumed  a  uniform  plain  enough  to  be  considered 
the  precursor  of  the  Religious  habit  ;  and  though  he  did  not  speak 
go  OS  to  be  heard  by  Dr.  Murray,  lest  bis  words  might  seem  a  censure 
on  his  Grace's  kindness,  he  was  all  the  more  earnest  in  impressing 
his  views  on  others,  as  Dr.  Blake,  in  the  Dedication  sermon,  had 
given  utterance  to  the  following  words  : 

*  Very  Rev.  Fiithor  O'lInnlon'H  Lives  of  tlio  Irish  Saints  will  go  fur  to  remedy 
tlio  (letleiiMioy  wo  linvo  iilliided  to. 

Wo  Imvo  ftlipmly  mcn'i"iici.l  llio  UrsuUno  and  J'rc*eiitiition  Orders.  The 
Clirisliim  Urotiior^  were  fminded  in  Wulerfurd,  1802,  by  Elinund  Kioo,  Esq. 
Tlioy  adopted  tlio  Kiiles  of  tlio  Veil,  do  In  Sallo.  Tlio  Urigeliiics,  in  Tnllow, 
by  Miss  M.  C.  Dawson,  1800 ;  tho  Sisters  of  Charity,  in  DuMin,  by  Miss  Mary 
A.  Aikenhcad,  1317  ;  the  Lorctto  Nuns,  by  Miss  Aloysin  liuU  ;  the  I'reaentauoa 
Brothers,  the  Brothers  of  St.  Putriok,  &o.,  &o. 


S  ! 


154 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  M^AULET. 


"  I  look  upon  Mi.«s  McAulcy  as  one  selected  by  Heaven  for  seme 
prciU  work.  Her  heart  overflows  witli  the  eharity  of  Jesus,  whoso 
all-consuuiing  love  burns  witliiii  her.  No  woman  has  o\er  accom- 
plished more  f<.'r  suffering,  sorrowing  humanity.  Slie  nmy  well  re- 
joice over  those  whom  she  has  been  instrumental  in  -inatching  from , 
the  enemy's  griisj),  and  may  confidently  claim  a  blessing  from 
heaven  on  her  future  labors.  I  will  venture  to  s.iy  that  her  name 
is  written  in  the  Hook  of  Life,  and  I  feel  convinced  that  any  in- 
dividual presuming,  by  word  or  deed,  to  injure  her  establishment, 
will  draw  down  upon  him-elf  the  lash,  the  scourge  of  the  Almighty, 
even  in  this  world." 

This  was  strong  language  from  any  source,  but  any  one  ac- 
quainted with  the  late  Bishop  of  Dromore,*  will  admit  that  his 
eminent  virtue  gave  peculiar  weight  to  every  thing  he  said.  Sus- 
tained by  him,  the  Institute  could  hardly  fail,  and  its  enemies  were 
well  aware  of  this. 

Another  clergyman,  who  was  under  several  obligations  to  Miss 
McAuley,  hinted,  in  rather  impolite  terms,  that,  by  the  mere  at- 
tempt to  found  a  new  society,  she  had  ipso  fado  unsexed  herself, 
and  wrote  to  her  in  the  most  contemptuous  style,  addressing  the 
letter  to  "  C.  McAuley,  Esq."  His  memory  could  not  have  been 
very  retentive  of  facts  with  which  his  profession  might  have  made 
him  acquainted,  else  he  might  remember  that  it  was  no  new  thing 
for  women  to  establish  religious  Orders.  If  the  Scripture  speaks 
of  few  woraenf  who  received  the  gift  of  prophecy,  we  do  not  re- 
collect that  it  mentions  any  false  prophetesses  ;  but  foundresses 
under  the  Christian  dispensation  may  be  mentioned  in  scores,  and 
8aints|  have  sometimes  sulyected  whole  monasteries  of  monks  to 
the  gentle  rule  of  au  Abbess  I  Yet  more,  in  that  most  abstruse 
of  sciences — mystical  theology — women  are  numbered  among  the 


•  Tlio  beautiful  J/ai/o«n<i  which  hnng*  over  t)ie  u\U\t  Mattr  Miitrieordici,\n 
the  cliupel  lit  Uiijr«ot-sticct,  was  predcntcd  by  Dr.  lilulce,  on  his  rotiiru  from 
BuiDO,  »liunco  ha  bruii^lit  it,  IS'JO. 

t  The  two  Aiiiia!>,  Uibora,  Miriam,  etc. 

X  As  St.  Gilbert  of  Eiijflaiiii,  St.  Briiliret  of  Sweilen,  etc.  The  monks  wera 
uulijcct  in  tcniporiils  to  tlio  Abbos's  of  the  Convent  of  their  Urder,  which  ad- 
Jgiu  i  the  Chur«h  that  served  bot>'..  oomiuuuitie*. 


LIFE   OF  CATHERINE   ilCAULEY. 


155 


cn  for  Bcme 
jsns,  whoso 
^er  accom- 
my  well  re- 
tching from  . 
•ssiiig  from 
t  her  immo 
hat  any  in- 
;ablishmeiit, 
3  Ahnighty, 

iny  one  ac- 
lit  that  his 
;  said.  Sus- 
ucmics  were 

ions  to  Miss 
he  mere  at- 
jxed  herself, 
dressing  the 
t  have  beea 
t  have  made 
10  new  tiling 
pture  speakfl 
e  do  not  re- 
t  foundresses 
in  scores,  and 
of  monks  to 
nost  abstruse 
d  among  the 

Miitricordut,  in 
his  return  from 


riie  monks  were 
Order,  which  ad- 


Doctors  of  the  Church.  And  after  ail.  Miss  McAuley  conld  not 
open  an  asylum  for  the  protection  of  poor  girls,  without  departing 
from  her  natural  delicacy,  and  sacrificing  her  fcmiuino  graces  ! 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  reverence  Catherine  hud  for  the  clergy. 
Like  her  patroness,  the  Saint  of  Sienna,  she  would  have  kissed  the 
ground  on  which  a  priest  stood,  rcdcctiiig  that  it  was  tlirou;;!,  hig 
instrumentality  sinners  were  reconciled  to  God.  She  inculcaletl 
this  most  earnc  tly  in  all  whom  she  instructed  ;  and  she  once  se- 
verely reproved  a  postulant  who  asked  a  priest,  an  old  friend  of 
her  family,  to  take  a  little  parcel  to  a  mutual  friend.  She  said, 
if  we  ought  to  show  politeness  to  seculars,  wc  should  evince  rev- 
erence for  ecclesiastics.  "The  youngest  priest,"  she  would  say, 
"  is  superior  in  dignity  to  the  greatest  monarch  on  earth,  and  ought 
to  be  treated  accordingly."  AVhen  she  glanced  at  the  nddriss  of 
this  most  offensive  letter,  her  tears  gushed  forth  despite  of  iier 
efforts  to  restrain  them.  "  Alas,"  said  she.  "  how  little  did  I 
think,  when  I  tried  to  devise  some  means  oi  assisting  the  neglected 
poor,  that  I  should  ever  live  to  give  offence  to  the  least  of  God's 
ministers  !"* 

The  writer  of  this  letter  did  not  repeat  the  iusult.  He  dropped 
dead  in  the  street  a  few  days  after  he  wrote  it,  and  his  sudden 
death  was  by  some  regarded  as  a  judgment,  and  in  verification  of 
Dr.  Blake's  prediction.  Catherine  always  spoke  of  him  with  esteem, 
said  his  opposition  was  well  meant,  and  had  prayers  offered  for  his 
soul,  when  she  heard  of  his  untimely  end. 

More  than  Rev.  Mr.  W were   unwilling  to   sanction   the 

dedication  of  the  new  establishment.  The  nearest  house  to  it  was 
a  public  institution,  sustained  by  Protestants,  the  trustees  of  which 
gave  a  little  annoyance  to  their  neighbors.  Miss  MoAu!c>  oftea 
petitioned  them  to  permit  her  to  raise,  at  her  own  expense,  the 
wall  which  divided  their  respective  premises,  but  they  would  not 
hear  of  it,  till,  to  their  intense  chagrin,  they  learned  that  the  Arch- 
bishop, in  blessing  the  new  establishment,  would  pass  along  the  low 
boundary  wall  with  bell,  book,  and  candle,  incense  and  holy  water. 
The  fact  that  the  inmates  of  their  institution  could  not  be  pre- 

t  Communicatcil  Ijy  M,  Frances  Warde,  who  waa  present  when  the  letter  waa 
delivered 


.sm£^ 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


vented  from  peeping  in,  combined  with  the  fear  that  a  few  drops  of 
holy  water  might  desecrate  tlieir  evangelical  premises,  and  a  vagne 
notion  that  the  Po|)e  might  be  present  in  disguise,  had  more  effect 
than  all  Miss  McAuley's  rhetoric.  The  morning  of  the  dedication 
the  wall  was  found  to  have  gone  up  as  if  by  magic,  a  few  feet 
higher  than  even  the  petitioner  desired. 

The  Feast  of  Corpus  Christi  and  that  of  the  Sacred  Heart  were 
celebrated  at  the  new  Institute  with  great  solemnity.  The  Confra- 
ternity of  the  Sacred  Heart*  was  established,  and  many  of  the 
inmates,  with  the  more  grown  of  the  school-children,  were  enrolled 
in  it.  From  that  time,  1829,  it  has  been  the  general  custom  to 
enrol  in  this  sodality  the  pupils  on  the  day  of  their  first  com- 
munion. 

But  the  trials  most  grievous  to  the  Foundress  had  yet  to  come, 
and  they  came  from  the  Archbishop,  her  direct  superior.  For 
yenrs  he  had  been  her  spiritual  guide,  she  had  not  taken  one  step 
towards  her  present  position  without  his  direction  or  consent. 
Several  zealous  persons  having  represented  to  him  that  the  new 
Institute  was  being  changed  into  a  Convent,  without  being  bound 
by  any  of  the  rules  authorized  by  the  Church,  his  Grace  admitted 
the  infoiiveuience  of  this,  and  said  that  the  idea  of  a  conventual 
establiaiimi-nt  starting  up  of  itself  in  this  manner  had  never  cvitered 
into  hi^  Aiind.  Indeed,  the  position  of  the  Institute  was  somewhat 
anomalous.  It  was  not  a  convent,  its  members  being  bound  by  no 
rule  or  vow,  nor  could  it,  with  propriety,  be  styled  a  secular  house, 
for  already  it  had  its  appointed  hours  of  silence  and  recreation,  of 
labor  and  rest,  of  prayer  and  study.  Not  one  of  those  concerned 
ever  thought  of  its  becoming  the  cradle  of  a  new  Religious  con- 
gregation ;  but  what  Founder  ever  saw  at  a  glance  the  consequences 
of  his  work  ?  Look,  for  example,  at  St.  Ignatius.  Born  at  a 
time  when  the  spirit  of  the  Crusaders  was  not  yet  totally  extinct, 
he  desires  to  establish  his  few  disciples  in  a  country  politically  one 
the  least  among  nations,  though,  as  the  land  in  whicii  the  Redemp- 
tion was  accomplished,  it  must  ever  be  dear  to  all  Christian  hearts. 


*  S-^'  fnl  spc  .ai  indiilj^enc^a  nrc  nttnclied  to  tliii>  Confniteriiity  in  Ireland,  in 
>)on'ji<iv.enoe,  ai  one  of  tl'.e  rescripts  tsaj-g,  of  "  tlie  great  devotiou  to  tlio  Sacred 
Heart  which  prevails  in  that  kingdom." 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   MCAULEY". 


167 


w  drops  of 

lul  a  va^no 

more  effect 

dcdieation 

a  few  feet 

Heart  were 
The  Confra- 
liiny  of  the 
ere  enrolled 
[  cnstom  to 
r  first  com- 

yet  to  come, 
[lerior.     For 
;en  one  step 
or  consent, 
hat  the  new 
being  bound 
ice  admitted 
conventual 
icvor  entered 
|as  somewhat 
l(Ound  by  no 
ecular  house, 
•eereation,  of 
isc  concerned 
iligioub  con- 
consequences 
Born  at  a 
[tally  extinct, 
politically  one 
the  Rodcmp- 
■istian  hearts. 


ly  in  Irclnnfl,  in 
In  to  tlio  Sacred 


IJttlc  did  hft  then  imngine  that  his  sous  were  destined  to  become 
the  npo.-^tles  of  nations,  to  revive  in  the  Church  the  glories  of  her 
primitive  ages,  and  to  b.  come  by  t'lcir  writinijs  the  spiritual  direct- 
ors of  the  world.  Just  as  little  did  Catherine  anticipate  the  future, 
wliou  she  erected  a  house  to  slielter  a  few  jxjor  women. 

One  of  her  opponents,  counting  on  her  submis-sion,  for  her  obe- 
dience was  known  to  be  equal  to  her  charity,  visited  her  in  July, 
1829,  and  after  having  been  shown  through  the  institution,  informed 
her  that  the  Archbishop  intended  to  transfer  it  to  the  Sisters  of 
Charity,  but  that  she  would  be  allowed  to  retain  apartments,  and 
have  a  private  entrance.  Tiiis  intelligence,  abruptly  imparted,  shot 
a  momentary  pang  through  her  heart.  She  thought  of  the  com- 
panions of  her  labors,  the  realization  of  her  early  aspirations,  the 
house  to  maintain  which  she  had  made  herself  almost  a  beggar, 
and  forfeited  the  affections  of  her  nearest  friends  ;  and  then  raising 
her  eyes  to  heaven,  without  yielding  to  the  slightest  emotion,  she 
gently  and  smilingly  informed  her  visitor  that  she  was  ready  to 
acquiesce  in  his  Grace's  decision.  The  same  day  she  wrote  to  the 
Archbishop  to  that  effect. 

In  a  subsequent  visit,  Dr.  Murray  informed  lier  that  he  had  not 
authorized  any  one  to  make  such  a  communication.  "  However," 
he  added,  "  I  did  not  think  the  founding  of  a  new  Order  was  part 
of  your  plan."  As  she  made  no  comment  on  this,  he  continued  in 
freezing  tones,  and  with  a  cold,  disdainful  air,  which  he  could  well 
assume  :  "  lleally,  Miss  McAuley,  I  had  no  idea  that  a  new  Con- 
gregation would  start  up  in  this  maimer."  It  was  well  that  Cath- 
erine posses-sed  as  much  virtue  as  he  gave  her  credit  for. 

After  his  departure  her  mind  became  terribly  agitated.  Had 
her  own  will,  then,  been  her  guiding  star  ?  Was  mere  self-gratifi- 
cation her  object,  and  not  the  glory  of  God  ?  And  after  o))eying 
her  legitimate  superiors  so  exactly,  how  did  it  happen  that  she  had 
acted  in  opposition  to  their  wishes  ?  Again  she  wrote  to  the 
Archbishop,  offering  to  resign  into  his  hands  the  house  just  com- 
pleted, begging  that  he  wquld  be  pleased  to  allow  her  the  poorest 
apartment  in  it,  and  permission  to  labor  in  any  capacity  to  carry 
out  her  good  intentions.  Relating  this  incident,  Very  Rev. 
Dominic  Murphy  adds : 


:   ^ 


•J  I 

■I: 


:      J 


158 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


"No  oue  could  better  appreciate  the  generosity  of  such  au  offer 
than  the  prelate  to  whom  it  was  made,  lie  knew  her  worth,  and 
had  no  difiiculty  in  perceiving  that  her  conduct  throughout  had 
been  influenced  by  the  purest  charity.  He  had  been  li  im  her  first 
convet".sion  the  witness  of  her  zeal  and  piety.  To  her  proposal 
of  committing  the  cstabii-^hment  to  the  care  of  some  one  of  the 
religious  institutions  then  in  Dublin,  he  gave  the  most  decided 
negative,,  rightly  judging  that  the  same  benevolent  and  generous 
spirit  to  which  it  was  indebted  for  its  existence,  would  best  preside 
over  its  subsequent  exertions,  and  conduct  it  to  eventnal  success." 
"  Every  good  work,"  he  said,  "was  destined  to  be  opposed  and 
contradicted,  and  for  trials  she  should  ever  be  i)reparcd." 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  opposition  that  the  whole 
economy  of  God's  will  in  her  regard,  burst  upon  her  mind.  Not 
only  was  she  inspired  to  add  a  new  gem  to  the  brilliant  diadem  of 
the  Church,  but  to  combine  what  had  been  previously  regarded  as 
belonging  to  different  states,  so  far  as  female  Religious  were  con- 
cerned, and  to  accop'.plish  what  had  been  unsuccessfully  tried  in 
Ireland  and  elsewhere  :  perpetual  vows,  a  large  amount  of  choir 
duty,  a  strict  observance  of  silence,  etc.,  seeming  almost  impossible 
without  the  aid  of  cloister  ;  while  visitation  of  the  sick,  the  neces- 
sary intercourse  with  seculars,  and  the  worivs  of  mercy  to  be  per- 
formed in  and  out  of  the  Convent,  seemed  incompatible  with  so 
much  daily  choir-duty,  etc.  "  Dr.  Blake,"  says  she,  "  received  all 
the  ideas  I  had  formed,  and  I  am  certain  he  had  the  Institute  in 
his  mind  in  all  his  communications  with  God."  Happily,  he 
returned  from  Rome  just  when  his  assistance  was  indispensable. 
He  consoled  her  in  all  her  afllictiona,  and  cased  her  mind  of  much 
pain,  assuring  her  that  self-will  had  had  no  share  in  her  exertions, 
of  which  be  had  seen  the  commencement,  and  watched  the 
progress. 

Speaking  of  the  troubles  that  assailed  her  at  this  time.  Mother 
Mury  V.  Ilartnett  writes  :  "  God  drew  good  out  of  evil,  ordaining 
that  these  very  storms  should  be  the  means  of  making  the  com- 
munity take  firm  root,  and  bring  forth  more  vigorous  fruits  of  vir- 
tue and  good  works,  as  they  were  also  the  means  of  securing  to 
the  Sisters  permanent  successors  for  their  holy  mission."     lu  the 


LIFK  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


159 


ich  au  offer 
worth,  and 
ighont  had 
im  her  first 
cr  proposal 

one  of  thp 
lost  decided 
id  generous 
best  preside 
iial  success." 
apposed  and 
il" 

at  the  whole 
■  mind.    Not 
int  diadem  of 
f  regarded  as 
)ua  were  con- 
;fully  tried  in 
3uut  of  choir 
)st  impossible 
ck,  the  neccs- 
cy  to  be  por- 
tible  with  so 

received  all 
e  Insiituto  in 

Happily,  he 
indispensable, 
mind  of  much 

ler  exertions, 

watclied  the 

time,  Mother 
evil,  ordaining 

Ling  tlic  com- 
fruits  of  vir- 
of  securing  to 
lion."     lu  the 


summer  of  1830,  the  opposition  was  so  great  that  it  seemed  as  if 
the  Sisterhood,  now  numbering  twelve,  must  disband.  Full  of  con- 
fidence in  God,  Catherine  tranquilly  left  the  result  to  Ilim,  and 
consoled  and  animated  her  companions  under  their  mutual  afflic- 
tions. Visiting  her  one  day,  Dr.  Blake  remarked  that  the  Insti- 
tute was  now  like  its  Divine  Master,  a  sign  to  be  contradicted, 
"  but,"  added  he,  "  it  is  high  time  to  rescue  you  and  your  associates 
from  the  anomaly  on'  your  present  position  ;  you  have  endured  it 
long  enough."  He  then  went  to  confer  with  the  Archbishop, 
and,  says  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Murphy,  "  the  confcrenco  of  these  two 
great  men  was  long  and  animated."  Impressions  had  been  made 
on  his  Grace  which  it  was  not  easy  to  remove,  but  the  rrrult  of 
the  consultation  was,  that  the  "  Sisters  of  Mercy "  should  appear 
either  as  Religious  or  as  seculars,  and  as  they  unanimously  chose 
to  become  Religious,  it  was  decided  that  their  Institute  should  be 
entirely  unconnected  with  any  other,  that  it  should  be  governed  by 
its  own  rules  and  constitutions,  and  that  the  practices  of  monastic 
life,  as  such,  should  as  soon  as  possible  be  introduced  among  its 
members. 

The  Carmelites*  and  Poor  Clares  were  especially  kind  on  thi 
occasion.  Both  of  these  ancient  Orders  offered,  in  the  most  affec- 
tionate terms,  to  affiliate  the  house  to  their  own.  Indeed,  almost 
all  the  Convents  of  the  Archdiocese  stretched  out  a  helping  hand 
to  their  embryo  Sister,  sending  copies  of  their  respective  rules  for 
Miss  McAuley's  inspection.  Of  these  rules,  that  of  the  Presenta- 
tion Order  seemed  best  adapted  to  the  object  in  view,f  and  on  being 
informed  of  this,  the  Archbishoj)  offered  to  invite  some  professed 
members  of  that  Order  to  reside  awhile  in  Baggot-strcet,  or  to 
allow  Mm  McAulcy  and  a  few  of  her  associates  to  make  a  novi- 
tiate in  some  Presentation  Convent.    The  latter  being  agreed  on, 

•  I'rolmbI)  tiirouirh  tliu  iiiflucnco  of  W-ry  Hi>v.  Fiill-or  O'llniilon,  Coiifussor, 
i\ml  Very  IJuv.  Uiiniel  Uurko,  O.  S.  F.,  Clia|>lniii  of  the  Iiistitiitc. 

t  Tlio  I'rosFntiitluii  Kiik'B  of  wliich  tlio  Kiilo  of  St.  Aii((i)Htiiio  Ih  tlio  \>am», 
wore  druwti  up  by  U«v.  Luwronco  U'Ciiiiuftliiin,  O.  8.  1'.,  Cork,  nml  Niino 
Niiftlu,  iibmit  tlio  yciir  1777.  Tlioy  wire  iipprovod  by  PiuH  VI.,  In  171)1,  ond 
coiiflrmod  by  riiix  VII.,  1805.  Tlio  KcliKioiis  iiro  bniiiul  to  tlio  CHlucutiori  of  the 
poor  onl]/—ong\iu\\\y  tlioy  vUilcd  tlio  itiuk,  etc.,  but  tliey  have  been  oloiatored 
linoo  1906. 


I    > 


160 


LIFE   or   CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


it  was  resolved  tlmt  slie,  her  first  coni])aiiion.  Miss  Doyle,  cDd  a 
lute  accession,  Miss  Elizubeth  Ilivrlev,  slioiilil  make  their  novitiate 
in  the  monastery  of  George's  lliii,*  tlie  community  of  which  kindly 
acquiesced  in  this  arriingement.  By  much  diliucnce  the  prepara- 
tions for  their  departure  were  completed  by  the  8th  of  SuptiMnher, 
Catherine  being  e:ijier  to  livinor  the  Festival  of  Our^ Lady's  Nativ- 
ity by  t'.e  sacrifice,  and  to  place  the  uliole  proceeding  under  tho 
special  patronage  of  Mary.  TIio  Superioress  and  Community  at 
George's  Ilill  received  them  at  the  gate. 

This  year,  1830,  Miss  Mary  Delany,  of  Castle  Durrow,  Kilkenny, 
Miss  Georgina  Moore,  of  Duljlin,  Miss  Durne,  and  Mi.-s  Marcella 
Flynn,  both  friends  of  Dr.  Dlake,  entered.  Miss  Flynn  was  some- 
where between  the  si.xth  and  ninth  hour  of  life  when  she  joined  the 
Institute,  As  a  general  rule.  Miss  McAuley  preferred  young  sub- 
jects, but  as  this  j)ious  lady  was  recommended  by  Dr.  J>lake,  she 
was  immediately  accepted.  It  was,  however,  so  dilTicnlt  to  "  break 
her  in"  to  religious  life,  and,  as  one  of  her  fiiends  jileasantly  said, 
"to  get  the  old  inaid  out  of  her,"  that  Mother  iMcAnley  wa.") 
obliged  to  devcte  no  small  portion  of  time  to  her  alone,  and  it  was 
remarked  that  slit  kept  Sister  Marcella  in  the  house  in  order 
that  she  herself  might  never  chance  to  be  without  across.  Yet  her 
patience  and  forbearance  were  well  rewarded,  for  this  Sister  became 
one  of  the  most  ellicient  nieinl)ers.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years 
she  had  got  completely  "out  of  her  little  ways,"  and  was  admitted 
to  profession.  Strange  to  say,  slie  survived  nearly  all  her  juvenile 
contemporaries,  dying  of  mere  old  age,  in  1803.  She  was  |)rescnt 
at  all  the  community  exercises  till  tho  vesper  hour  of  the  d.  ,  of  her 
death,  when  she  complained  of  a  little  faintness.  Tho  confessor, 
who  happened  to  be  in  the  house,  anointed  her,  and  she  expired 
without  the  least  apparent  struggle,  after  about  ten  minutes'  illness, 


•  OoorKo'o  lUll  Prenentfttion  Convont  is  n  fpaelouR  hiit  drcnry-lookliift  hiiild- 
Inp,  Kllimlcil  in  tlio  numt  dcii-ily  pi>pnliilocl  piirt  of  Dublin,  Norili  Aniie-Rtrcct. 

II  WHS  crut'ti'il  ill  IT'.U,  luul  \*  i.'o!iso(|iic'nlly  tlio  iililost  Cutliolio  m'IiodI  in  tlio 
Ctipital.  ItR  niiiillniotive  (>itu  wiis  cliO'cn  pioliiilily  to  l<<'('p  it  iih  ninoli  oat  of 
vliw  iiN  poiiHll)U<.    In  tlioKO  (liiys,  Cutliolio  iiiHtitutiouB  Uuro  not  iliow  tlienuelvM 

III  ronpeotnble  luciiiilioi. 


L 


Doyle,  i'.nd  a 
heir  novitiate 
'  which  kindly 
the  prcpara- 
)f  SiptiMtiber, 
Lady's  Nativ- 
ing  under  I  ho 
Community  at 

•o\v,  Kilkenny, 
Mi.-s  Marcella 
rnn  was  some- 
she  joined  the 
•ed  yonng  sub- 
Dr.  Blake,  she 
?uU  to  "  break 
feasant  ly  said, 
jMcAnlcy  was 
me,  and  it  was 
lonse  in   order 
ross.     Yet  her 
5  Sister  became 
of  a  few  years 
J  was  admitted 
all  her  juvenile 
)he  was  present 
■  the  d, y  of  her 
The  confessor, 
,nd  she  expired 
minutes'  illness, 


■nry-lookltid  liiiild- 
Mortli  Aniic-fitrL'Ct. 
olio  vcIiodI  ill  tlie 
it  iiH  iimoli  "Ut  of 
)t  ihow  ilienuelvet 


nhMi-M 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


161 


having  previously  composed  herself  as  if  for  sleep.    In  a  little  time 
the  ancient  Provincial  followed  his  more  ancient  penitent.  ' 

In  June,  1830,  the  Sisterhood  were  greatly  consoled  by  receiv- 
ing from  his  Holiness  Pope  Pius  VII I.  a  Rescript  of  In<ln|.ronces 
dated  May  23,  1830.    Tliis  favor  was  granted  chiefly  tlirou'^rh  the 
mfluence  of  Very  Rev.   Dr.  Whelan,   a  Carmelite  Father"  now 
Bishop  of  Bombay.  ' 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Ose  of  the  Nnvitiiitc. — The  Novioo  nnd  tlio  Mistress. — Incidfnts  of  Cntherlne*! 
Novitiate. — Trialn. — Ciillicriiie's  reception. — Beliind  the  iji  UU.—Em\nenl  vir- 
tues Cntheriiie  olmerved  in  the  Abbess  nnd  Keligious  of  George's  Hill.— 
PupilM  of  the  I'resoatutioii  Nuns, 

rpiIAT  no  person  may  unadvisedly  take  the  important  and  irrev- 
J.  ocable  step  of  making  religious  vows  in  any  approved  Oi'der, 
it  is  wisely  ordained  that  a  novitiate  of  at  least  one  year  be  made 
previous  to  profession,*  during  which  candidates  are  required  to 
learn  the  technicalities  of  conventual  life,  the  spirit  of  the  rule 
they  desire  to  embrace,  the  nature  of  the  duties  which  it  will  bo 
their  life-long  business  to  perform,  and  every  thing  connected  with 
the  perfection  and  obligation  of  the  vows.  This  is  a  matter  of 
justice  to  the  subjects,  because  they  ought  to  understand  well  the 
obligations  they  contract ;  and  to  the  Order  which  receives  them, 
because  time  and  experience  are  requisite  in  judging  of  the  most 
promising  vocations.  As  all  who  persevere  must  permit  themselves 
to  be  moulded  as  the  rules  and  traditions  of  the  Institute  require, 
the  period  of  probation  is  generally  a  time  of  trial  and  temptation, 
as  well  as  of  great  spiritual  consolation. 

Sister  Catherine  commenced  her  novitiate  with  the  most  perfect 
dispositions'.  Neither  her  mature  years,  nor  her  declining  health, 
nor  her  previous  position,  which  had  been  one  of  authority,  ever 
induced  her  to  claim  the  least  exemption.  She  considered  the 
meanest  occupation  in  religion  more  honorable  than  the  highest 
earthly  dignity,  and  it  was  easy  to  perceive  that  she  had  indeed 
"  chosen  to  become  an  abject  in  the  house  of  the  Lord."  Com- 
pletely resigning  herself  into  the  hands  of  her  superiors,  she  begged 


*  The  length  of  the  novitiote  vnries  in  diflbrvnt  Orders.    In  the  Order  of 
U«roy  It  is  four  year*  nnd  »  half;  in  the  Ursulino,  six  years  nnd  n  half,  eto. 


LIFE   OP   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


163 


if  Catherine'! 
.Eminont  vir- 
orge'b  Hill.— 

^t  and  irrev- 
■oved  Order, 
ear  be  made 
1  required  to 

of  tlic  rule 
ich  it  will  be 
nnccted  with 

a  matter  of 
tand  well  the 
;ceives  them, 

of  the  most 
lit  themselves 

itutc  require, 
Id  temptation, 

most  perfect 
[lining  health, 
luthority,  ever 
[onsidercd  the 
[n  the  highest 
|io  had  indeed 
jord."     Com- 
|>r8,  she  begged 

[in  tlie  Ord«r  ol 
^iJ  n  Imir,  eto. 


them  to  do  with  her  as  they  pleased,  and  they  did  not  fail  to  pat 
her  virtue  to  very  severe  tests.  The  Mistress  of  Novices,  Mother 
Teresa  Hagan,  was  a  convert  of  reraarliably  ri.i>id  views,  but  never- 
theless well  fitted  for  her  responsible  office.  Sometimes  she  affected 
to  misunderstand  her  saintly  novice,  and  treated  her  as  a  visionary  ; 
Bometinies  slie  hinted  that  ambition  to  found  a  new  Order  was 
among  her  motives,  and  she  sometimes  imposed  grievous  penances 
and  humiliations  for  faults  which  her  novice  never  thought  of.  All 
sweetness  to  others,  for  sire  saw  they  were  not  called  to  such  high 
sanctity,  she  was  almost  invariably  severe  to  Catherine,  and  her 
manner  was  sa  perfectly  natural  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
whether  she  was  inflicting  a  penance  for  some  real  fault,  or  trying 
the  virtue  of  a  proficient.  Her  other  children  she  treated  as  chil- 
dren, but  Catherhie  she  treated  as  a  giantess.  This  consummate 
mistress  had  sufficient  judgment  to  impose  on  her  novices,  individ- 
ually, just  so  much  of  a  burden  as  they  could  bear  with  a  lillle 
difficulty. 

Catherine,  habitually  severe  ou  herself,  was  always  indulgent  to 
others.  She  knew  how  to  make  allowances  for  every  one.  Her 
great  knowledge  of  the  world,  her  keen  penetration,  her  almost  in- 
stantaneous perception  of  the  motives  and  dispositions  of  those 
whom  she  met  for  the  first  time,  instead  of  making  her  bitter  or 
censorious,  had  a  directly  contrary  effect.  She  could  see  much 
good  where  others  could  not  see  any  ;  and  by  patience  and  judi- 
cious kindness,  slio  often  made  saints  of  characters  who,  if  man- 
aged by  one  less  skilful,  could  not,  Immaiily  speaking,  persevere  at 
all.  He  who  had  destined  her  to  become  a  guide  and  model  to 
uumerous  souls,  ordained  that  she  should  have  every  facility  for 
becoming  expert  in  the  spiritual  warfare.  Her  most  trivial  inad- 
vertence was  rigorously  reprehended,  her  will  and  inclinations  con- 
tinually thwarted,  and  the  least  gratification  studiously  inteidicted. 
When  she  wished  to  rest,  she  had  to  labor  ;  when  she  evinced  a  de- 
sire to  read,  she  was  ordered  to  teach  ;  and  when  she  seemed  in« 
clined  to  prny,  she  was  sent  to  recreate. 

"  Reproofs  and  trials,"  says  Mother  McAuley's  last  biographer, 
"  could  not  disturb  the  serenity  of  Sister  Catherine's  appearance,  or 
the  tranqaillity  of  her  mind.    She  afterwards  said  they  were  of 


-ii^ 


164 


LIFE   OP   CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


service  to  her,  and  that,  if  she  were  permitted  a  choice,  she  woald 
prefer  to  remain  a  novice  all  her  life. 

"  Her  cheerfulness  and  animation  made  her  the  life  of  the  re- 
creation. At  times  her  own  two  sistei-s  feared  lest  she  shonld  go 
too  far  ; — Sister  Anna  Maria,  throngh  the  apprehension  of  dis- 
pleasin;^  the  Presentation  inms  whom  she  dearly  loved  ;  Sister 
Elizabeth,  lest  something  might  occur  that  would  defer  their  return 
home.  But  though  Sister  Catherine's  playfulness  and  cheerfulness 
were  great,  they  were  always  so  well  regulated  that  there  was  no 
danger  of  their  hicurring  any  real  censure. 

"On  one  occasion  a  liouse  adjoining,  belonging  to  the  nnns, 
having  become  vacant,  it  was  necessary  for  some  of  them  to  go 
into  it  to  see  what  repairs  it  required.  Now,  as  the  garden  wall 
bounded  the  enclosure,  no  novice  could  go  outside  it  without  in- 
curring the  penalty  of  recommencing  her  noviti!>.te.  It  being  a 
time  of  recreation  when  the  appointed  nuns  were  going,  Sister 
Catherine  seemed  as  if  determined  to  accompany  them  ;  and  when 
her  two  companions  saw  her  actually  going  with  them  towards  the 
forbidden  door,  and  apparently  st''pping  out,  they  hastened  to  her 
in  the  greatest  alarm  ;  but  they  soon  found  that  she  was  in  the 
spirit  of  recreation  doing  the  work  of  the  hour,  raising  an  innocent 
smile  :  she  had  no  intention  of  committing  the  fault,  nor  did  she 
at  all  forget  the  rule." 

One  day  her  friend  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  was  announced. 
He  had  come  from  Carlow  to  visit  her ;  and,  as  he  brought  news 
of  her  nephews,  she  naturally  evinced  some  pleasure  on  being  told 
to  go  to  the  parlor.  !Mothcr  Teresa  perceiving  (his,  ordered  her 
to  send  a  polite  excuse  for  her  nonappearance,  and  the  President 
was  obliged  to  return  without  seeing  her.  Circumstanced  as  she 
was,  her  solicitude  ;b^  the  health  and  progress  of  these  boys  was 
very  great.  Should  they  grow  discontented  at  College,  she  had  no 
homo  to  receive  them,  and  except  as  Protestants  their  uncle  would 
not  admit  them  to  his  house.  She  feared  they  might  be  ill  or  uu- 
imi)i)y,  cljc  the  Doctor  had  come  to  confer  with  her  concerning 
them  ;  but  In  a  few  days  she  had  the  happiness  of  learning  that 
her  apprehensions  were  groundless.  Robert  and  James  had  been 
received  into  the  Catholic  Church  by  the  great  Dr.  Doyle,  then 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


165 


slir,  would 

of  the  re- 
I  slionld  go 
ion  of  dis- 
•cd;  Sister 
their  return 
chcerfalncss 
here  was  no 

to  the  nuns, 

them  to  go 

ganlen  wall 
it  without  in- 
It  being  a 
going,  Sister 
01  ;  and  when 
n  towards  the 
astcncd  to  her 
.be  was  in  the 
n"'  an  innocent 
lit,  nor  did  she 

ras  announced, 
brought  news 
oil  being  told 
[lis,  ordered  her 
the  rrcsident 
Istanced  as  sbo 
[these  boys  was 
lege,  she  had  no 
lieir  uncle  would 
]ht  be  ill  or  uu' 
her  concerning 
)f  learning  that 
James  had  been 
IDr.  Doyle,  then 


Bishop  of  KiUlaro  and  Leighlln,  and  William,  who  in  time  followed 
tiicir  example,  made  his  abjuration  in  Dublin  ;  and  in  the  vacation 
of  1830,  just  before  his  aunt's  entrance  into  the  Prescntsitiou  Con- 
vent, he  and  his  sister  Catherine  made  tiieir  first  communion  in  +ho 
Chapel  of  the  Convent  of  Mercy,  Baggot-strcet.  In  1831,  prob- 
ably on  account  of  her  absence,  the  property  of  her  sister's  chil- 
dren, situiited  chiefly  in  the  County  Louth,  became  involved  in  ex- 
pensive litigation,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  was  lost  to  them,  a 
ioss  that  Iiad  not  afflicted  her  so  much  had  she  been  aware  that 
they  were  all  destined  to  die  young. 

One  day,  her  niece  Catlicrine,  and  her  godchild  Teresa,  having 
come  to  sje  her,  she,  through  forgetfulness,  remained  with  them 
two  or  tliree  minutes  beyond  the  specified  time.  For  this  breach 
of  discipline  her  mistress  would  take  no  excuse,  and  as  a  penance 
she  ordered  Sister  M.  Catherine  to  kneel  at  the  foot  of  the  no- 
vitiate table  with  her  arms  extended  in  form  of  a  cross.  Being 
called  away,  she  forgot  to  release  her;  and,  on  returning,  moro 
than  an  hour  after,  she  found  her  novice  in  this  most  distressing 
position,  her  arms  gently  undulating,  however.  Had  she  been 
left  a  few  minutes  longer,  she  must  have  fainted.  When  next  the 
children  came,  she  was  ordered  to  read  tiie  Imitation  aloud  to 
them  for  half  an  hour,  but  she  was  not  permitted  to  say  a  word 
to  them.  They  returned  not  much  improved  by  the  pious  lecture  ; 
and  on  their  next  visit,  Mother  Teresa  entered  the  parlor,  and  re- 
proved her  sharply  in  their  presence.  Little  Catherine  began  to 
cry,  and  Teresa,  unable  to  control  herself,  exclaimed  :  "  Do,  dear 
godmother,  come  home  from  that  cross  lady." 

"My  child,"  answered  the  gentle  sister,  "if  I  thought  your  lan- 
guage proceeded  from  any  thing  but  want  of  sense,  I  should  not 
permit  you  to  visit  me  again  while  I  remain  here."* 

Tbcn,  as  if  sorry  for  speaking  so  sternly,  she  took  the  little  one 
in  her  arms,  and  explained  to  her  the  necessity  of  humiliation  in 
the  religious  life.  Teresa  and  Catherine  were,  howevor,  too  young 
to  understand  what  seemed  clear  enough  a  little  later,  when  they 
themselves  became  Religious. 

^  From  n  Memoir  written  by  tbo  eamo  godchild,  a  lioligious  in  tho  Cmv^nt 
of  M«ro)',  Baltimoro. 


m 
(,  ■ 


166 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   JICAULEY. 


Mother  McAuloy,  although  she  gladly  received  these  liumilla- 
tious  herself,  never  inflicted  similar  ones.  What  could  be  done 
with  good  effect  in  other  Orders,  she  did  not  always  deem  suitable 
in  the  Older  of  Mercy.  She  would  not  give  a  humiliation  ia 
presence  of  extcrns,  or  at  recreations  ;  even  the  directions  she  do- 
sired  to  see  carried  out  in  the  schools  or  House  of  Mercy,  she 
would  never  give  in  presence  of  the  pupils  or  inmates,  so  jealous 
was  she  of  upholding  the  authority  of  the  Sisters  in  their  respec- 
tive oflBces  and  charges.     Correction  she  usually  gave  in  private. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  Octave  of  the  Immaculate  Conception, 
1830,  the  three  postulants  received  the  Religious  habit.  The  Re- 
ception was  public,  as  is  customary  in  the  Presentation  order. 
Sister  Catherine  grieved  to  be  obliged  to  resume  the  dress  of  the 
world,  even  for  a  short  time,  but  she  submitted  to  the  judgment  of 
others.  She  was  careful,  however,  not  to  go  to  any  unnecessary 
expense,  and  would  not  even  purchase  a  new  outfit  for  the  occa- 
sion. She  had  been  in  mourning  for  one  friend  or  another  since 
Mrs.  Callahan's  death,  and  as  this  excused  her  from  mingling  ia 
society  outside  her  own  immediate  circle,  no  additions  had  been 
made  to  her  wardrobe,  save  what  the  r.trictest  necessity  required. 
A  rich  lavender  brocade  still  remained,  which  was  altered  to  suit 
the  present  fashion  ;  and  in  it  she  appeared  at  the  ceremony,  a 
white  crape  scarf  almost  coi!cealing  her  figure.  Her  younger 
companions  wore  white,  with  the  usual  accompaniments  of  lace 
and  flowers  ;  the  briglit  orange  blossoms  nestled  in  their  shining 
hair,  beautifully  typifying  the  mystic  nuptials  they  were  about  to 
celebrate  with  the  King  pf  kings. 

The  Mother  Superior  intimated  that  she  wished  them  to  assume, 
respectively,  the  names  of  Teresa,  Clare,  and  Angela,  but  Cath- 
erine reflecting  that  these  saints  had  been  Foundresses,  her  humil- 
ity was  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  associating  herself  to  them,  and 
she  entreated  that  she  and  her  companions  might  be  permitted  to 
keep  their  baptismal  names,  prefixing  Mary  out  of  devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin. 

A  pleasant  occurrence  on  the  morning  of  the  Reception  shows 
the  virtue  of  our  holy  novice  in  a  new  light.  Not  wishing  to  put 
the  Sisters  to  any  trouble,  Sister  Catherine  obtained  permission  to 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   JiCAULET. 


167 


36  ImmiVia- 

Id  be  done 

jm  suitable 

miliation  ia 

ions  she  da- 
Mercy,  she 

s,  so  jealous 

their  respec- 

in  private. 

;  Conception, 

it.    TheRe- 

itation  order. 

s  dress  of  the 

c  judgment  of 

ly  unnecessary 

,  for  the  occar 

r  anotlier  since 

jm  mingling  in 

ions  had  been 

[essity  reciuired. 
altered  to  suit 
lie  ceremony,  a 
Her  younger 

[limcnts  of  lace 

ia  their  shining 

were  about  to 

them  to  assume, 
|ngela,  but  Cath- 
•esses,  her  hunul- 
|clf  to  them,  and 
be  permitted  to 
f  devotion  to  the 

iKeception  shows 
lot  wishing  to  put 
led  permission  to 


preside  over  her  own  toilette,  and  for  this  her  chaste  and  elegant 
taste  qualified  her.  She  had  no  sooner  descended  to  the  Chapter- 
room  than  the  Abbess  condescended  to  become  her  tire-woman,  and 
rearranged  her  dress  in  the  style  fashionable  wlien  she  left  the 
world,  in  1798.  Mother  Teresa,  whose  experimental  knowledge  of 
such  vanities  was  less  antique  by  a  few  years,  dating  only  to  1808, 
undertook  to  rejuvenate  the  style.  Catherine,  absorbed  in  prayer, 
was  passive  under  these  varied  operations,  and  quite  indiflerent  aa 
to  what  the  nuns  improved  her  into. 

The  Religious  were  naturally  anxious  that  their  postulants  should 
look  well  at  the  approaching  ceremony.  Sisters  Mary  Ann  and 
Elizabeth  had  already  undergone  the  disngreeable  ordeal  of  close 
inspection,  and  were  pronounced  "suitable,"  but  the  Abbess 
found  several  faults  with  Sister  M.  Catherine's  personnel.  A 
merry  little  postulant  undertook  to  remedy  these,  but  only  suc- 
ceeded in  making  bad  worse  ;  and  when  she  had  accomplished  this, 
she  quietly  retired,  leaving  the  novice-elect  at  leisure  to  pursue  her 
devotions. 

The  great  bell  at  length  summoned  the  postulants  to  the  Chap- 
ter-room, where  the  nuns,  who  were  forming  into  procession,  simul- 
taneously lifted  their  eyes  to  assure  themselves,  by  a  last  glance, 
that  all  was  right.  But  it  was  beyond  the  power  of  human  nature 
to  look  unmoved  at  the  ludicrous  spectacle,  and,  oblivious  of  the 
solemnity  of  the  place  and  occasion,  not  a  few  austere  countenanca 
relaxed  into  smiles.  Catherine,  unconscious  that  she  was  the  cause 
of  this,  smiled  too,  and  only  learned  the  ridiculous  appearance  she 
made,  when  the  Abbess  sent  her  to  rearrange  her  toilette,  and 
giving  her  carte  blanche  for  the  rest,  cautioned  her  not  to  delay 
the  Archbishop,  who  had  appointed  the  hour  for  the  reception.  At 
the  evening  recreation,  a  full  explanation  of  the  affair  was  given  ; 
and  while  the  merry  laugh  resounded  through  the  old  cloisters  of 
George's  Hill  Monastery,  the  nuns  expressed  their  ftdmiration  of 
ihe  serenity  of  Catherine,  and  her  profound  recollection,  which  pre- 
vented her  noticing  the  ridiculous  improvements  made  in  her  ap- 
pearance. 

In  after-life.  Mother  McAuley  often  spoke  of  the  edifica- 
tion   she   received    at   George's    Hill.      During    her    novitiate, 


168 


LIFE  OF  CATHKRINE   MCAULET. 


Mother  Frances  Knowd  wa-  elected  Abbess  ;  but  when  the 
Archbishop  proceeded  to  confirm  the  election,  siie  Ijcsoiight  him 
to  consider  iier  og:o  and  infirmities,  and  not  to  inip<}se  so  great  a 
burden  on  one  so  incapable  of  sustuining  it.  Ilis  Grace  confirmed 
the  choice  of  the  Community.  The  punctuality  of  this  saintly  Re- 
ligious, and  the  perft  ction  with  which  she  led  the  common  life, 
avoiding  every  thing  extraordinary,  seemed  to  Mother  McAuley 
incomparably  greater  than  occasional  wondei  lul  things  united  to 
less  fervor  and  exactness.  She  had  entered  the  convent  in  1798, 
and,  during  the  thirty-two  years  of  her  religious  life,  she  was  never 
once  known  to  be  absent  from  any  exercise,  and  never  once  failed 
to  rise  at  the  first  sound  of  the  bell,  5  a.  u.  She  sufTiTed  intensely 
from  inflammatory  rheumatism,  yet  she  always  strove  to  wait  on 
herself,  though  it  was  painful  to  see  the  efforts  she  made.  For 
twenty  years  she  filled  alternately  the  office  of  Superior  oimI  As- 
sistant ;  but  whatever  office  she  held,  her  pre-eminent  virtue  wa-i  ^he 
only  thing  that  distinguished  her  from  the  least  in  the  house.  So 
entirely  had  she  overcome  a  naturally  fiery  temper,  that  she  seemed 
insensible  to  every  thing  calculated  to  arouse  it.  Catherine,  one 
day,  through  ignorame  of  facts,  made  some  remark  that  might 
seem  a  censure  on  her  arrangements  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  learned 
the  real  state  of  the  thing,  she  ininiediately  apologized.  It  was  a 
mere  trifle.  The  holy  Abbess  received  her  with  great  sweetness, 
told  her  she  had  not  noticed  the  indiscretion,  and  added,  im- 
pressively : 

"  Never  let  any  thing  that  docs  not  offend  God  give  you  the 
least  pain  or  anxiety." 

The  Humility  of  this  saintly  Superior  was  such,  that  if  any  one 
praised  even  her  needle-work  or  kuiltiug,  she  would  instantly  undo 
it ;  and  the  Sisters  were  obliged  to  be  very  cautious  not  to  say  a 
word  in  praise  of  her  arrangements.  She  dreaded  praise  more 
than  most  persons  dread  censure.  The  motto  on  which  her  whole 
spiritual  life  seemed  to  lean,  was  :  "  When  you  shall  have  done  all 
things,  say,  we  arc  unprofitable  servants ;"  and,  as  her  humility 
would  no!  allow  her  to  think  she  had  done  all  things,  she  regarded 
herself  as  i  wicked  and  slotlil'ul  servant.  Nor  was  the  c>  Ited 
virtue  of  Mi)ther  Frances  an  exceptional  case  in  her  convent  or 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MfAULEY. 


169 


jt  when  the 
Iwsonght  him 
use  so  great  a 
•ace  confirmed 
lis  saintly  Re- 
common  life, 
Lhtr  IiIcAuley 
lings  united  to 
nvent  in  1198, 
she  was  never 
ver  once  failed 
ffored  intensely 
ove  to  wait  on 
ihe  made.     For 
iperior  ami  As- 
it  virtue  was  ibe 
the  house.    So 
that  she  seemed 
Catherine,  one 
ark  that  might 
a  as  she  learned 
rizcd.     It  was  a 
great  sweetness, 
and   added,  ira- 

iod  give  you  the 

,  that  if  any  one 
lid  instantly  undo 
ious  not  to  say  a 
ided  praise  more 
1  which  her  whole 
ihall  have  done  all 
I,  as  her  humility^ 
ings,  she  regarded, 
•  was  the  a   Itcd 
in  her  convent  or 


her  Order.  It  was  the  rule  to  which  we  never  heard  of  an  excpp- 
tion,  although  the  piety  of  others  may  not  have  taken  so  austere 
a  torn  in  every  instance.  And  this  devotion  exliales  beyond  the 
cloister.  It  is  quite  remarkable  that  the  poor  children,  educated 
by  the  Presentation  uuus,  arc  generally  solidly  virtuous,  and  sel- 
dom fall  away  in  after-life. 

8 


'i 


in-:immijm\'mfi 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Caroline  Murphy. — CnrolJDO,  Princess  of  Wales. — Asersplii;  death. — Exlraor- 
dinary  kindness  of  the  Carmelite  Fatlicrs.— New  triuls  for  Sister  Mary 
Catherine. 


DURING  the  year  1831,  many  trials  befell  Catherine.  Her 
spiritual  children  in  Bajrgot-strcet  having  no  one  to  restrict 
them  in  penitential  exercises,  or  to  restrain  them  in  their  laborc 
for  the  poor,  undertook  more  than  their  strength  was  equal  to  : 
the  greater  nurab.T  of  them  were  injured,  and  three  became  seri- 
ously ill ;  aud,  in  June,  she  learned  that  Sister  Caroline  Murphy 
had  not  many  days  to  live.  The  virtues  and  talents  of  this  Sister 
endeared  her  in  a  special  manner  to  the  young  community. 

"  Her  life  was  short  and  fair, 
Unsullied  by  a  blot, 
And  now  she  sinks  to  dreamless  rest, 
A  dove  that  makes  the  earth  her  ues^— 
So  murmur  not  1" 

Caroline*  was  daughter  to  an  eminent  physician  in  the  South  of 
Ireland.  From  infancy  she  was  a  child  of  benedictions.  The 
mortifications  of  the  saints  were  her  amusements,  and  her  disposi- 
tion was  so  angelic,  that  one  would  think  she  "  had  never  sinned 
in  Adam."  At  the  age  of  twelve  she  made  a  vow  of  perpetual 
chastity  ;  and  though  her  parents  would  not  permit  her  to  enter  a 

*  Slio  was  called  after  Caroline,  the  iiiifortunato  consort  of  George  IV.,  for 
wl  otn  the  Irish,  with  tliat  beautiful  instinct  so  toucliiuff  in  an  oppressed  people, 
evinced  tlie  deepest  Kyinpathy.  Kcjilectud  and  ill-treated  from  the  period  of 
her  arrival  in  England,  t-he  tiiially  attained  the  degrading  distinction  of  being 
the  first  royal  lady  siibjocted  to  the  ignominy  of  a  public  trial  since  the  days  of 
Henry  Vlll.  Slio  certainly  experienced  rallier  unhundsoiue  treatment  from 
"the  most  perfect  gentleman  in  Europe."  Deep  as  was  the  sympathy  this  ill- 
futed  queen  excited,  she  compares  somewhat  unfavorably  with  England's  royal 
matrous  at  an  earlier  date,  but  Ler  faults  were  forgotten  iu  her  mibfortunea. 


ctttli.-ExlrROT- 
or  Sister  Mary 


Lheriae.    Her 
one  to  restrict 
a  their  labor? 
was  equal  to  : 
e  became  scri- 
troline  U\n\M 
3  of  this  Sister 
lunity. 


in  the  South  of 
Icdictions.     The 

and  her  disposi- 
lad  never  sinned 

)W  of  perpetual 
lit  her  to  enter  a 

of  Gcorso  IV.,  for 

In  oppressed  pcoi'lc, 

from  tl'O  pi^r'O''  °^ 

distiuotiou  of  being 

lUa  Bince  the  di'y«  "^ 

Lo  irciilmenl  from 

L  eyniputliy  tl.i»  iH- 

Ivilh  England's  royal 

lier  misfortunes. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


171 


convent,  they  gave  her  full  liberty  to  practise  her  pious  exercises. 
When  she  was  seventeen  her  father  died  quite  suddenly.  He  had 
just  given  her  a  difficult  piece,  wiiicli,  he  said,  he  would  expect  lier 
to  play  perfectly  by  evening  ;  but  she  had  scarcely  mastered  the 
preludes  when  a  loud  noise,  in  the  direction  of  his  chanil)er,  at- 
tracted her  attention.  On  rushing  to  his  apartment,  she  found  her 
worst  fears  realized.  The  unfortunate  physician  lay  heavily  on  the 
floor,  not  in  a  faini  or  swoon,  but  dead.  This  terrible  bereave- 
ment weaned  Caroline  more  and  more  from  transitory  things.  She 
resolved  to  execute  her  ardent  desire  of  entering  Religion,  and  her 
mother,  who  did  not  prttend  to  be  a  widow  indeed,  and  who  looked 
on  her  lovely  child  almost  as  a  rival,  gave  full  con.sent. 

Caroline  was  dazzlingly  beautiful,  and  apparently  unconscious  of 
the  fact.  It  was  quite  disagreeable  for  her  to  go  to  any  public 
place,  or  even  to  church,  on  account  of  the  admiration  audibly 
expressed,  and  the  staring  of  which  she  was  sure  to  become  the 
object.  A  perfect  blonde,  her  beauty  was  more  striking  than 
Mary  Teresa's — the  latter  grew  on  you,  the  former  dazzled  you  at 
once  ;  and  the  external  charms  faintly  typified  the  loveliness  hidden 
within.  The  casket  was  fair,  but  the  jewel  it  enshrined  was  fairer 
still.  Her  obedience  was  perfect,  though,  strictly  speaking,  she 
was  not  bound  to  obey  ;  her  penance  rigorous,  though  slie  carried 
her  baptismal  robe  unsullied  to  the  judgmqnt-seat ;  her  charity 
seemed  like  that  of  the  just  made  perfect.  She  always  chose  tho 
meanest  occupations  in  the  house,  she  was  eager  to  assist  every  one, 
she  coveted  humiliations,  and  dreaded  the  applause  of  creatures. 
For  about  five  months  she  continued  her  accustomed  avocations, 
though  her  lungs  were  hopelessly  diseased  ;  but  when  weakness 
rendered  her  unable  to  leave  the  room,  she  sank  rapidly,  and 
breathed  her  last  &a.  the  Feast  of  St.  Peter  and  Paul,  1831.  Her 
death  was  seraphic.  The  chaplain  and  confessor,  who  were  pre- 
sent, said  they  never  witnessed  any  thing  like  it.  The  Sisters  who 
had  been  witnesses  and  companions  of  her  holiness,  were  incited  to 
new  fervor  when  tliey  beheld  the  supernatural  favors  bestowed  on 
the  dying  spouse  of  Christ.  The  life  of  this  fair  young  creature 
was  a  realization  of  the  highest  triumph  of  Christian  asceticism. 
The  gorgeous,  delicate  rose  which  embalms  the  air  with  its  exqui- 


-.iii;;jtoViii  I'i^^^ ''V'"^  iHiSi^iifetag^^' 


^wiwteC^m 


172 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


site  odors  is  surrounded  by  rough  moss  and  sliarp  tliorns.  Is  not 
this  like  spotless  innocence  guarded  by  heroic  penance  ? 

The  virtues  of  Sister  Caroline  lived  in  the  memory  of  those  from 
whose  society  she  was  translated  to  her  own  bright  home.  The 
force  of  her  sweet  and  holy  example  was  a  most  eloquent  sermon. 
Happy  are  they  whose  words  and  examples,  remembered  by  those 
who  heard  or  witnessed  them,  contiimc  to  draw  souls  to  God  after 
they  themselves  have  passed  away. 

Who  can  tell  how  the  maternal  heart  of  the  Fouiidress  yearned 
towards  this  dying  child  ?  IIow  many  things,  which  only  a 
Mother  could  think  of,  would  she  have  done  to  case  her  I  And  il:' 
this  precious  child  were  iudeed  to  die,  how  many  messages  ..ould 
she  not  send  to  heaven  by  such  a  saintly  messenger  I  But  she 
cannot  even  have  the  mournful  pleasure  of  closing  the  eyes  of  her 
child.  Th3  coffin-lid  will  cover  that  fair  face,  and  the  Mother  may 
not  take  a  last  fond  look.  The  precious  remains  will  be  soon  con- 
signed to  their  kindred  earth,  and  she  may  not  unite  with  the  Sis- 
ters who  chant  the  De  jvo/undis.  Mother  and  child  may  not 
meet  again  in  the  body,  till  tliey  meet  at  the  resurrection  of  the 
jnst,  on  the  confines  of  a  blessed  eternity  ! 

As  there  was  no  cemetery  attached  to  the  Baggot-strect 
House,  the  Carmelites,  with  extraordinary  kinchiess,  offered  a  vault 
in  the  Clmrch  of  St.  Teresa,  in  Clarendon-street,  as  a  temporary 
resting-place  for  the  deceased  Sisters,  which  it  continued  to  be  till 
1841,  when,  on  the  demise  of  the  Foundress,  the  Convent  ceme- 
tery was  consecrated.  In  the  centre  of  this  was  laid  Catherine 
McAuley,  and  the  dear  remains  of  her  children  were  brought 
homo,  and  deposited  around  her. 

In  August,  1831,  Mother  McAuley  learned  that  her  niece  Mary 
Teresa  was  seriously  ill,  and  that  Sister  Anna  O'Grady's  recovery 
was  despaired  of  About  the  same  time,  one  of  her  two  com- 
panions, Sister  Aima  Maria,  was  attacked  with  severe  hemorrhage  of 
the  lungs,  brougiit  on  by  over-exertion  in  hei  charge,  Die  convene 
chapel  ;  and  the  otiier.  Sister  Elizabeth,  became  quite  delic^ite. 
So  unceasing  were  the  trials  of  the  Foundress,  that  the  Sisters 
used  to  say,  they  could  not  point  to  a  wet  k,  or  even  a  day,  iu 
wbicU  a  ucw  cross  was  not  laid  on  her  shoulders. 


-— -rs*- 


•ns.    Is  not 

f  those  from 
hoiue.  The 
iciit  sermon, 
fed  by  those 
,0  God  after 

ress  yearned 
hich  only  a 
er  1     And  il: 
ssagei  -.(Ould 
r  1     But  she 
e  eyes  of  her 
Mother  may 
be  soon  con- 
with  the  Sis- 
hild  mny  not 
ection  of  the 

Baggot-strcct 
)ffered  a  vault 
a  temporary 
uod  to  be  till 
!]onvent  eerae- 
laid  Catherine 
were  brought 

lier  niece  ^lary 
ady's  recovery 
her  two  com- 
;  hemorrhage  of 
[fe,  the  convene 
quite  delie;>te. 
hat  the  Sisters 
even  a  day,  in 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

(Sister  M.  Catlicrino's  Profession.— Ilcr  return  to  Bnsgot-strcot.-  -Her  first  lec- 
ture.—Extrncts  from  her  instructions.- Her  nioilo  of  corrocliiijr.— Tlic  office 
of  Superior.— How  Motlier  McAuley  exorcised  it.— One  piirnKnipli  Biifflocs  for 
rules  un.l  constitution  fortlie  Institute.— A  generous  rival.— Mother  MoAuloy 
combines  the  active  and  contcniplutivo  live».— Intercourse  with  seculars. 

AS  the  time  of  profession  drew  nigh,  several  of  the  nuns  began 
to  entertain  doubts  as  to  whether  they  could  conscientiously 
vote  for  novices  destined  for  a  different  Institute.  There  was 
nothing  in  their  rule  which  could  guide  them  in  such  a  contingency, 
and  the  question  seemed  so  serious,  that  the  result  of  the  final 
chapter  was  any  thing  but  certain.  Now,  if  tlii.s  community  would 
not  profess  them,  what  other  would  ?  And  why  were  not  these 
difBeulties  started  when  the  application  to  admit  them  had  been 
made  ?  That  was  the  time  for  raising  oijjections,  not  the  present. 
Catherine  had  recourse  to  prayer.  "  Not  knowing  what  to  do,  I 
have  only  to  lift  up  my  eyes  to  Thee,  0  Lord,"  she  said.  "  Site  hunii)ly 
laid  all  before  her  dearest  Saviour,"  saya  her  Inst  biographer, 
"and  prostrate  nt  the  foot  of  tiie  altar,  she  implored  light  and 
guidance  in  this,  the  greatest  calamity  that  had  as  yet  threatened 
her.  She  afterwards  admitted  the  intcn.se  suffering  tuis  trial 
caused  her,  but  resignation  never  failed  her." 

The  Archbishop,  having  inquired  minutely  into  the  matter,  and 
seeing  her  patience  and  submission,  informed  her  that  if  the  Sis- 
terhood should  decline  to  act  in  this  affair,  he  would  profess  her 
himself.  He  also  took  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  seeing 
that  her  property  was  disposed  of  as  the  vow  of  poverty  requires. 
For  this  act  of  eonsiderats  kindness  she  ever  felt  moat  grntefid  to 
Dr.  Murray,  as  it  obviated  the  necessity  of  making  known  to 
persons  not  concerned  the  amount  of  her  fortune  remaining,  or  tho 
manner  of  its  appropriation  for  tho  future  Convent,  House  of 
Mercy,  etc. 


I 


174 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


In  October,  1831,  the  nuns,  who  were  unanimous  In  their  opin- 
ion of  licr  s:inotity,  decided  for  the  profession.  As  tlie  l»me  ap- 
proached ill  which  she  was  to  consecrate  iicr  riclies  to  God  by  the 
vow  of  pivcrly,  her  licart  by  the  vow  of  chastity,  and  her  will  by 
the  vow  of  oljediencc,  her  fervor  redoubled,  and  the  favors  she  re- 
ceived from  heaven  amply  repaid  her  for  all  her  sorrows.  After  a 
retreat  of  ten  days,  Sisters  Mary  Catherine,  Mary  Ann,  and  ]\Iary 
Elizabetii  pronounced  the  tliree  vows  of  religion,  according  to  the 
Presentation  form,  with  the  proviso  that  the  vcw  of  obedience 
might  include  wiiatcver  the  Churcli  should  subsequently  approve 
for  the  Order  of  Mercy.  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Blake  preached  at  the 
ceremony,  and  after  Mass  conducted  the  newly  professed  Sisters  to 
Baggot-street.  Tliis  took  place  on  th.o  12th  of  December,  1831  ; 
and  from  tl;ut  day  is  dated  the  foundation  of  the  Order,  though 
the  Institute  had  been  in  constant  operation  from  the  Feast  of 
Our  I.ady  of  Mercy,  1827. 

The  Religious  of  George's  Ilill  earnestly  entreated  the  Foundress 
to  remain  with  then  a  few  days  longer,  and  even  pressed  the  Arch- 
bishop to  desire  her  t  do  so,  but  as  his  Grace  referred  the  matter 
to  herself,  she  would  not  make  an  hour's  delay,  or  even  show  her- 
self at  the  dejiuner  provided  for  the  people  who  had  attended  the 
ceremoiy.  Yet  she  was  tenderly  attached  to  these  nuns,  and  she 
often  said  that,  witli  all  its  anxieties,  her  novitiate  had  been  the 
happiest  period  of  her  life.  She  was  obliged  to  promise  them  that 
she  would  visit  them  at  some  future  time,  if  she  possibly  coi'l. 
Eight  years  later  she  fuUilled  this  promise,  taking  witii  her  one  of 
the  Sisters  destined  for  the  Ijondon  mission,  to  gratify  some  of  the 
nans  who  were  anxious  to  see  "Geraldine."  The  fo'.towiug  pleas- 
ant passage  refers  to  this  visit.  It  occurs  in  ii  letter  dated  Nov, 
17,  1839  :  "  We  visited  dear  old  George's  Iliil,  and  the  afl'ectionato 
uuns  were  delighted  to  see  us.  I  essayed  to  embrace  the  old  rush 
chair  on  wliich  I  used  to  sit,  but  I  kissed  a  grand  new  one  in  mis- 
take. IFowever,  I  took  back  the  kiss,  as  "ducky  Mary  Quiuu"* 
would  sr.y,  and  bestowed  it  on  the  right  chair." 

When  they  reached  Baggot-street,  on  the  morning  of  the  12th 

*  Olio  of  the  orpliaiiB.  Whunovc  M.  MoAuloy  montiou*  th«in,  alio  nlwayv 
call*  ihein  by  thotr  pet  namoi.  , 


their  opin- 
le  time  ap- 
yod  by  tho 

lier  will  by 
ifors  kIic  rc- 
fs.     After  a 
a,  and  ^lary 
>rding  to  the 
of  obedieiico 
:ntly  approve 
ichcd  at  the 
3cd  Siitors  to 
■mbcr,  1831  ; 
)rdcr,  though 

the  Feast  of 

the  Foundress 
sed  the  Arch- 
■cd  the  matter 
ven  show  her- 
1  attended  tho 
nuns,  and  she 
had  been  tho 
misc  them  that 
lOBsibly  cot'l. 
•ith  her  one  of 
fy  some  of  the 
oKowing  plcas- 
T  dated  Nov. 
Ihc  ufl'cctionato 
:o  tho  old  rush 
cw  one  in  mis- 
aiary  Quinu"* 

ng  of  the  12th 

Uiciii,  ilio  nlw»yi» 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


176 


of  December,  1831,  they  found  the  Sisters  awaiting  tlieir  arrival 
in  the  chapel,  which  had  been  handsomely  decorated  for  the  joy- 
ful occasion.  After  the  Te  Deuni  liad  been  sung,  Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Bialie  addressed  a  few  impressive  words  to  the  assembled  Sisters. 
"  That  was  a  joyful  day  in  Baggot-strcet,"  says  the  simple  annalist. 
"  Every  face  was  radiant  with  happiness  ;  the  Sisters,  the  children, 
and  the  inmates  of  the  House  of  Mercy,  rejoiced  at  the  thought 
that  they  should  no  more  lose  their  good  Mother." 

On  Tuesday,  the  loth,  the  Archbishop  canonically  appointed 
Sister  M.  Catherine,  Superior.  Findi' '^  that  she  could  not  avoid 
the  lo'^ponsibility  of  governing  the  young  community,  she  entreated 
his  Gra-^e  to  allow  her  to  be  styled  Sister  Superior,  or  Superintend- 
ing Sistc;',  not  Reverend  Mother  or  Mother  Superior  ;  bnt  he  con- 
firmed her  in  the  latter  titles,  saying  that  "  there  ought  to  bo  at 
least  one  Mother  in  every  house." 

The  first  public  lecture  she  gave  was  on  Obedience.  She  read 
to  her  children  the  tenth  chapter  of  Rodriguez'  Treatise  on  that 
virtue,  which  may  bo  regarded  as  ii  comn)cntary  on  tho  text : 
"  Ol)oy  your  prelates,  for  they  watch  continually,  being  to  give  an 
account  of  your  souls,  that  they  may  do  this  with  joy,  not  with 
grief."  She  explained  the  nature  of  religious  obedience,  the  hap- 
piness of  always  doing  the  will  of  God  which  the  obedient  soul 
enjoys,  and  expatiated,  in  her  concise,  but  beautiful  style,  on  tho 
example  of  Him  who  was  obedient  even  to  the  death  of  the  cross. 
Mother  McAuley's  instructions  were  such  that  those  who  heard 
them  .lever  forgot  them.  A  Sister  who  hud  taken  some  notes  of 
them  says  :  "  No  jjon  could  describe  the  gentle,  caliii,  clear,  and 
resistless  spint  with  which  she  spoke."  She  had  the  rare  talent 
of  expressing  a  great  deal  in  a  few  words,  which  rendered  Iter  lec- 
tures the  opiKisite  of  those  thus  pithily  described  l)y  the  witly 
hcatlien  :  "  Many  words — little  sense."  Her  manner  was  calm, 
earnest,  and  uniinpassioned  ;  her  tone,  as  became  tho  solemn  hu1> 
jects  she  treated,  was  nearly  monotonous ;  her  illustrations  wero 
most  happily  chosen.  She  generally  kept  to  one  subject  at  a  time, 
U9  silence,  charity,  devotion  to  tho  Hlessod  Virgin  ;  and  her  instruc- 
tions never  lasted  mor(>  than  about  twon*y-live  minutes.  It  is 
deeply  to  bo  regretted  that  tho  incessant  occupations  of  tho  oarly 


i' 


>■;  '< 


'■     ii^'-furi''     'fl    -^t>-^-[---^-^--"''fcJ-<i''*"^-**-^ 


176 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Sisters  did  not  allow  them  leisure  to  take  more  copious  notes  of  her 
beautiful  lectures. 

Look  at  the  illustrations  she  uses  iu  recommending  that  quiet, 
subdued  exterior  which  she  considered  the  fit  covering  of  a  heart 
in  which  modesty  and  humility  have  taken  up  their  abode.  "  See," 
she  would  say,  "see  how  quietly  the  great  God  performs  all  his 
mighjy  works  :  darkness  is  spread  over  us  at  night,  and  light  re- 
luruH  in  the  morning,  and  tiiere  is  no  noise  of  closing  shutters  or 
drawing  curtains."  And  again :  "  How  silently  and  brilliantly  the 
lamp  burns  away  before  the  Blessed  Sacrament  when  the  oil  is 

Iiuie  !  It  is  only  when  oil  is  bad,  or  mingled  with  water,  that  it 
%V\\^  noisily.  It  is  so  with  us.  When  we  are  truly  holy,  our  days 
are  coiisumcd  gently,  noiselessly  in  His  service ;  but  when  we  are 
hurried,  noisy,  and  talkative  in  our  good  works,  the  oil  of  charity 
which  burns  within  us  cannot  be  perfectly  pure." 

She  inculcated  great  simplicity  of  langi  age  ;  nor  would  she  pcr- 
D\U  nueli  expressions  as  :  "  It  is  an  age  since  I  saw  you,"  "  I  am 
dtad  with  fatigue,"  "  I  have  been  dying  to  see  you,"  and  other 
similar  exaggerations.  To  a  sister  who  had  said,  "  I  hate  such  a 
thing,"  she  answered,  "  Sin  should  be  the  only  olycct  of  our 
iiatred  ;"  and  her  beloved  niece  happening  on  one  occasion  to  ex- 
press too  much  anxiety  about  something  she  eagerly  desired,  the 
holy  Superior  said,  in  her  gentle,  but  irresistible  manner  :  "  My 
child,  the  hopes  and  fears  of  a  Religious  should  always  centre  iu 
Qod  alone." 

When  subjects  entered  who  had  pompons  manners,  she  took  ex- 
traordinary pains  to  correct  them.  In  walking  through  ihc  house, 
or  performing  manual  works,  she  would  not  allow  the  least  precipi- 
tation iu  the  exterior.  "  We  arc  always  Religious,"  she  would 
say,  "  and  we  ought  always  to  ap{)car  as  such."  She  had  a  special 
talent  for  administering  correction.  Sometimes  she  put  herself  ia 
the  same  category  with  the  offender.  More  frequently  she  accused 
herself  of  the  fault  she  wished  to  coiTcct  in  another.  To  a  Supe- 
rior who  was  too  eager  that  some  prelates  should  come  to  u  deci- 
sion in  a  mutter  important  to  her  house,  her  Mother  wrote  :  "  Thcso 
good  bishops  take  their  own  time  to  consider  every  little  clrcum- 
itauco,  and  persons  iucliued  to  be  impatient,  like  myself,  might  just 


LIFE   f  ?   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


177 


notes  of  her 

ig  that  quiet, 
5  of  a  heart 
'ode.    "See," 
■forms  all  his 
and  light  re- 
ng  shutters  or 
brilliantly  the 
lien  the  oil  is 
water,  that  it 
holy,  our  days 
t  when  we  arc 
oil  of  charity 

would  she  per- 

V  you,"  "  I  am 

ou,"  aud  other 

I  hate  such  a 

object  of  our 

accasion  to  cx- 

rly  desired,  the 

manner  :  "  My 

[ways  centre  iu 

rs,  she  took  cx- 
ongh  ihc  house, 

ic  least  prccipi- 
ons,"  she  would 

ic  had  a  special 
le  put  herself  in 
ntly  she  accused 
ler.    To  a  Supc- 

comc  to  a  dcci- 

wrote:  "Theso 
cry  little  circum- 
iiyiulf,  might  juat 


1 


as  well  make  up  their  minds  to  await  their  lordships'  conclusion 
tranquilly." 

A  young  Sister,  who  had  a  habit  of  walking  too  hurriedly,  and 
closing  the  doors  very  noisily,  carac  iuto  the  community  one  morn- 
ing in  her  usual  style.  Mothci  icAuley,  witiiout  raising  her  eyes, 
inquired  who  came  in  last. 

"  It  is  Sister  Mary  E." 

"  Only  Sister  Mary  E.  ?"  observed  the  Foundress,  smiling  ;  "  if 
it  were  Queen  Adelaide,  there  could  nardly  have  been  more  com- 
motion." 

Tliis  was  quite  enough.  Sister  Mary  E.'s  movements  were  al- 
most inaudible  iu  future. 

The  Superior  of  a  Religious  community  has  a  difficult  office  to 
fill.  Siie  has  to  comfort  the  depressed,  to  restrain  the  impetuous,  to 
encournge  the  timorous,  to  assist  all  iu  every  emergency.  She 
must  study  the  dispositions  of  each  under  her  charge,  and  employ 
all  according  to  their  respective  abilities.  She  must  correct,  while 
she  may  not  lose  her  reverence  for  those  whom  she  corrects,  for 
they  are,  or  hope  to  become,  spouses  of  Jesus,  and,  as  such,  are 
dearer  to  Ilim  than  the  apple  of  His  eye.  She  must  reprove,  but 
study  to  make  her  rebuke  profitable  to  the  offender.  "  Ho  that 
would  injure  a  person  cares  not  how  lie  does  it,"  says  St,  Austin  ; 
"  but  he  who  dcsir.  -;  to  cure  must  be  cautious  iu  making  incisions." 
There  may  be  in  the  same  community — and  there  wcic  in  that 
which  Mother  McAuley  governed — Sisters  who  never  lost  their 
biiplismal  innocence,  and  Sisters  who  entered  seared  and  wounded 
witli  pride  and  worldliness :  some  whose  knowledge  of  •  lie  world 
was  bounded  by  a  quiet  domestic  circle,  and  others  who  had  reigned 
for  years  queens  of  beauty  and  fashion  in  the  best  society  ;  some 
who  have  only  just  been  emancipated  from  the  restraints  of  a 
boarding-school,  and  others  who  have  ruled  their  own  fumilies  ; 
Bomc  who  scarcely  know  what  sin  is,  and  others  whom  experience 
has  convinced  tliat  mortals  are  not  impeccable.  What  foresiglit, 
wliat  wisdom,  what  charity,  wliat  intuitive  knowicdne  of  chnracter 
are  required  to  govern  persons  of  such  vari'  d  dispositions,  to  com- 
bine elements  so  diverse,  and  make  the  combination  tend  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  o'  the  Institute  I    The  visible  Head  of 


''-a ' 


'1 1 


;i 


: 


•iJu^ 


am 


178 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  Mf^AULET. 


the  Churcb  styles  himself  "  Servant  of  the  servants  of  Christ." 
These  Avords  explain  the  oflicc  of  every  good  Superior. 

Every  quality,  natural  and  supernatural,  necessary  for  governing 
well  was  found  in  Mother  McAuley.  In  her  the  afl'ection  of  a 
Mother  was  blended  with  the  vigilance  of  tlie  Superior.  Iler  gov- 
ernment combined  "  love  without  remissness,  vigor  without  sharp- 
ness." Her  life  was  a  living  rule  ;  and  if  she  exhorted  her  chil- 
dren to  obey  like  Jesus,  s!ie  herself  was  careful  to  command  like 
Mary.  She  had  a  way  of  appealing  to  the  better  qualities  of  those 
under  her  charge  ;  and  she  trusted  them  so  entirely,  that  they  often 
said  they  could  not  have  the  heart  to  disappoint  her  confidence. 
In  every  department  she  adopted  the  same  plan ;  and  if,  among 
five  hundred  bad  qualities  in  a  child  or  servant,  there  was  one 
good  one,  she  would  seize  the  good  one  and  work  upon  it,  dissem- 
bling her  knowledge  of  the  bad  ones. 

The  Rule  and  Constitutions  not  yet  having  been  prepared,  she 
asked  the  Archbishop  what  the  Sisters  should  observe  for  the 
present.  His  Grace  pointed  to  the  Presentation  Rule  on  Charity, 
remarking  that  it  would  suffice.  And  so  it  did.  Whence,  Re- 
ligious who  complain  of  not  finding  their  rules  copious  and  definite 
enough  to  point  out  the  exact  way  in  every  emergency  may  take  a 
lesson.  The  fault  is  not  in  the  rule,  but  in  themselves.  Where 
people  are  seriously  and  honestly  bent  on  working  out  their  perfec- 
tion, they  are  more  eager  to  obey  a  rule  than  to  look  for  defects 
in  it.  For  several  years  after  its  foundation,  the  Order  of  Mercy 
had  no  rule,  but  one  short  paragraph  on  Charity  ;  and  yet  it  is  to 
tills  period  of  its  existence  that  its  children  must  ever  chiefly  look 
for  the  most  accomplished  models  of  the  perfection  of  their  state ; 
this  was  its  golden  age. 

Had  Mother  McAuley's  business  been  to  legislate  for  the  active 
life  alone,  or  the  contemplative  life  alone,  her  task  had  been  easy. 
Rut  to  combine  both  in  so  intimate  a  manner  tiiat  the  contem- 
plative should  not  suffer  from  tlie  nctive,  nor  the  active  from  the 
contemplative  ; — to  make  rules  which  alike  should  hinder  the  mem- 
bers from  being  so  captivated  with  the  dtlights  of  coii(eiiiplation 
as  to  become  weary  of  action,  and  from  applying  to  exterior  works 
Bo  as  to  neglect  their  Qwn  appointed  spiritual  exercises — this  wta 


LIPK  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


179 


ts  of  Christ." 
)r. 

'  tor  governing 

affection  of  a 

ior.     Her  gov- 

witlioiit  sharp- 

orted  her  chil- 

commaud  like 

lalitics  of  those 

that  they  often 

her  confidence. 

and  if,  among 

there  was  one 

upon  it,  dissem- 

a  prepared,  she 
jbserve  for  the 
.ale  on  Charity, 
.  Whence,  Re- 
ious  and  definite 
>ncy  may  take  a 
iselves.  Where 
out  their  perfec- 
look  for  defects 
Order  of  Mercy 
and  yet  it  is  to 
ever  chiefly  look 
n  of  their  state ; 

ite  for  the  active 
ii  had  been  easy, 
hat  the  contem- 
1  active  from  the 
1  hinder  the  raem- 
of  cotitemplation 
to  exterior  works 
:erci(ws — this  waa 


no  easy  task.  At  that  very  time,  a  noble  English  lady,  who  had 
often  revolved  in  mind  the  possibility  of  tliis,  feared  to  make  the 
experiment,  but  when  she  heard  it  was  already  done,  she  joined  the 
Order  of  Mercy,  having  previously  written  : 

"  I  am  happy  to  imitate  that  holy  man  who,  for  years,  had  been 
endeavoring  to  form  a  congregation  of  religious  men  who  should 
be  missionaries,  teachers  and  divines  ;  but  who,  when  he  heard  that 
St.  Ignatius  had  founded  the  Society  of  Jesus,  blessed  God  that 
another  had  been  found  more  worthy  than  he  to  accomplish  that 
good  work  for  the  greater  glory  of  God !'' 

The  duties  of  the  Sisters  biuJing  them  to  hold  intercourse  with 
the  world,  Mother  McAuley  made  regulations  calculated  to  render 
that  intercourse  profitable  to  all  parties.  In  the  first  place,  she 
prohibited  unnecessary  intercourse,  and  in  the  next,  she  gave 
rule  and  measure  for  wnat  necessity  or  charity  justified.  The  in- 
tercour.  'hich  came  ui-.der  the  head  of  business  included  chiefly 
the  servants,  offices,  the  school  department,  and  the  meeting  of 
such  benevolent  ladies  as  assisted  the  works  of  charity,  reported 
such  cases  of  danger  and  distress  as  came  under  their  observation, 
etc.  The  instructions  she  gave  to  the  Religious  at  the  head  of 
each  department  may  be  summed  up  in  these  words  : 

"  Be  ever  polite  and  gracious,  but  come  to  the  point  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  beware  of  wasting  a  moment  of  time.  Act  in  such 
a  manner  that,  whoever  holds  intercourse  with  you,  may  be  re- 
minded of  some  passage  in  the  life  of  our  Lord.  Think  how  the 
Mother  of  God  would  comport  herself  in  such  an  emergency,  and 
then  you  will  see  how  His  spouse  ought  to  act." 

As  to  the  visits  of  friendship  made  by  seculars,  she  curtailed  the 
length  of  these  to  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  each  Sister  being  obliged 
to  bring  her  watch  or  quarter-glass.  Her  iastructioos  on  this  head 
may  be  thu'  summed  up  : 

"  Take  g  -eat  care  never  to  manifest  the  slightest  interest  in  fash- 
ionable or  political  news,  and  be  sure  that  your  friends  do  not  karo 
you  without  reaping  some  benefit  from  the  interview." 

When  it  was  represented  that  some  ladies  might  be  offended  if 
the  Sisters  would  stay  with  them  only  a  quarter,  she  could  not  be 
convinced  that  well-bred  persona  would  <jver  be  displeased  with 


a 

r\ 
■it 


■^1 


ll 


'U.I.. -JiU 


fS"^ 


mfat 


180 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCaULEY. 


Religious  for  kcepiiifi^  tlicir  rules.  She  was  of  opinion  that  it  was 
uot  l)y  obscviiiij;  their  rules,  but  by  breaking  them,  tlmt  Religious 
give  oiTeiice,  wiiliiu  or  without.  However,  tl.o  regulation  as  to 
the  leii^tli  of  visits  of  seculars  was  relaxed  in  favor  of  near  rela- 
tions, benefactors  of  the  Order,  and  persons  in  affliction  ;  but  even 
in  the«c  cases,  special  permission  should  be  obtained  to  jiroiong  the 
time  one  monieut.  The  Sisters  were  directed  to  remind  their  vis- 
itors seasonably  of  some  pious  confraternity  or  devotion,  to  interest 
them  in  works  of  mercy,  to  obtain  their  aid  in  disposing  of  work 
for  the  poor,  etc. 

These  wise  regulations  precluded  the  very  possibility  of  the  lam- 
entable abuses  of  which  intercourse  with  seculars  has  often  been 
so  productive  to  Religious.  On  this  subject  the  Foundress  fre- 
quently expatiated,  for  she  regarded  it  as  of  immense  importance. 
To  act  in  a  manner  calculated  to  lower  tlie  religious  state  before 
the  world,  was  in  her  eyes  a  sacrilege  :  it  was  a  fault  for  wiiich  she 
would  take  no  excuse,  for  she  rightly  regarded  it  as  most  injurious 
to  the  glory  of  God.  To  a  Sister  who  said,  in  excuse  for  some- 
thing that  had  given  slight  dissatisfaction,  "  I  did  not  recollect," 
she  said  :  "  A  Religious  should  be  always  recollected,  every  thing  in 
ber  deportment  should  be  calculated  to  edify,  or  at  least  not  to 
dis(  dify."  If  a  physician  excused  himself  for  giving  a  wrong  pre- 
scription by  saying,  "  I  did  not  reiollcct  I  was  a  physician  ;"  if  a 
lawyer,  in  excuse  for  some  error  in  the  business  of  his  client,  should 
say,  "  I  made  this  mistake  because  I  did  uot  recollect  I  was  a  law- 
yer," such  excuses  would  be  regarded  as  absurd  ;  even  so,  she 
th ought  it  not  only  wrong,  but  absurd,  for  Religious  to  forget  the 
business  of  their  vocation. 

"  Our  nearest  and  dearest  friends,"  said  she,  "  expect  to  see  a 
decided  change  in  our  deportment  after  some  months'  residence  la 
a  convent,"  and  this  she  herself  once  Haw  exemplified.  A  friend 
of  hers,  having  taken  her,  several  years  hofore,  to  visit  a  Religious, 
when  the  visit  was  over,  expres.sed  great  disap]K)intmcnt  that  her 
lelative's  manners  were  just  the  same  they  ever  had  been,  and  uot 
iu  the  least  improved. 


■    •yjj^;',y,!J- 


I  tliat  it  was 
!it  Ileligioua 
lation  as  to 
)f  near  rela- 
in  ;  but  cveu 
)  prolong  the 
ind  their  vis- 
)n, to  interest 
isuig  of  work 

y  of  the  lam- 
as often  been 
Foundress  fre- 
ic  importance. 
s  state  before 
i  for  which  she 
most  injurious 
use  for  some- 
not  recollect," 
,  every  thing  in 
t  least  not  to 
a  wrong  pre- 
lysiciau  ;"  if  a 
is  client,  should 
:t  I  was  a  law- 
;  even  so,  she 
s  to  forget  the 

;xpect  to  see  a 
is'  residence  in 
Ged.  A  friend 
isit  a  Religious, 
itmcnt  that  her 
d  been,  and  not 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  first  Reception. — Costume  of  tlio  Order  devise  1  by  the  Fomulrcss.— Gen 
enil  end  of  nil  Orders. — Special  end  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. — Mother  Mo 
Auley'a  a^rangclnellt^»  for  the  protection  of  di.ttresscd  women. — Sho  inHists 
that  they  shiill  he  governed  by  mildness.— "  A  »liirt  for  the  Lord-Lieutenant" 
causes  a  little  commotion. — ConLrast.s. — A  soul  rescued. 

ON  the  Feast  of  the  Espousals  of  the  Blosscd  Virgin,  January 
23,  183-2,  seven  of  the  ladies  who  had  conducted  the  estab- 
lishment during  Mother  McAuley's  absence  were  clothed  with  the 
habit  of  the  new  Institute,  the  Archbishop  presiding.  The  ladies 
received  on  that  occasion  were  Sistt-rs  M.  Josephine  Byrne,  Mary 
Teresa  McAuley,  Mary  Frances  Wardc,  Mary  Angela  Dunne, 
Mary  M.  Di  Pazzi  Delany,  Mary  Anna  Carroll,  and  Mary  Clari- 
Moore.    Three  of  these  1  idles  arc  still  living  (1866). 

The  costume  the  Foundress  adopted  for  her  Order  consists  of  a 
habit  of  coarse  black  serge  or  cashmere,  falling  in  folds  from  the 
throat  to  the  feet  in  front,  and  lengthened  into  a  train  behind.  It 
is  confined  to  the  waist  by  a  leathern  girdle  or  cincture,  from  which 
depend  the  beads  and  ebony  cross  of  the  Order.  The  sleeves  are 
long  and  wide,  falling  \r>  plaits  from  the  shoulders,  with  tight  un- 
dersleeves.  The  iiabit  and  veil  are  very  ample,  and  of  classic 
simplicity  in  form.  The  gr.imp  is  a  deep  linen  collar,  worn  in  front : 
the  coif,  an  envelope  of  t'le  same  material,  covers  the  head,  and 
partly  conceals  the  face,  being  of  a  shape  not  unlike  the  quaint 
head-dresses  which  the  ladies  of  the  first  crusaders  wore,  in  imitation 
of  the  helmets  of  the  soldieis  of  the  cross.  The  indoor  and  out- 
door dress  of  the  Order  weie  designed  by  tl  e  Foundress.  Tho 
outdoor  dress  might,  at  that  lii'ic,  be  worn  by  a  secular  lady  iu 
mourning,  far  as  it  is  removed  from  the  fashion  of  the  present  day. 

And  now,  having  brought  our  subject  to  the  period  in  which  a 
new  Religious  family  was  added  to  those  wliieh  already  decorated 


::^ 


'T 


.;ai.;.,tifaia..^ljiifci.; 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCaULEY. 

the  Chiircli,  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  glance  at  tlic  general  end 
of  all  Orders,  and  the  special  ends  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. 

Convents  exist  in  great  nnnibers.  In  Italy,  almost  every  beau- 
tiful hillock  is  crowned  with  a  monastery  ;  in  the  cities  of  Franco, 
Spain,  and  Germany,  one  is  found  in  every  thoroughfare,  from  the 
wretched  faubourg  to  the  shadow  of  the  palace.  In  the  large 
towns  of  Ireland  there  is  one  in  nearly  every  district,  and  the  most 
romantic  spot  in  every  suburb  generally  possesses  the  further  charm 
of  a  convent.  The  monastic  cross  towers  aloft  towards  the  sullen 
sky  of  England ;  and  the  monastery  bells,  at  morning,  noon,  and 
night,  call  those  within  reach  of  their  sweet  sounds  to  adore  "  the 
Word  made  flesh"  for  man's  salvation.  In  the  United  States,  from 
Maine  to  Florida,  from  Florida  to  Texas,  from  Texa?  to  California, 
there  are  few  cities  without  Religious  houses.  It  would  be  natural 
to  expect  that,  as  the.'ic  institutions  are  so  widely  diffused,  and,  in 
most  instances,  so  actively*  usetul,  the  real  objects  for  which  they 
have  been  founded  migho  be  generally  understood.  Yet  this  is  far 
from  being  the  case. 

Persons  who  havj  read  the  "  awful  disclosures"  of  "  facts" 
enacted  only  in  the  vickedly  fertile  imaginations  of  the  wretched 
creatures  who  record  them,  wonder  if  "  any  thing  good  can  come 
from"  convents.  This  class  is  larger  than  the  boasted  diflFusion  of 
common  sense  would  lead  us  to  suppose. 

Of  a  hundred  who  read  these  calumnies,  scarce  one  will  see  their 
refutation  ;  hence  these  scandalous  libels  may  be  seen  on  the  same 
shelf  with  the  Establishment  Catechism,  or  Authorized  Version,  in 
many  a  cottage  in  Old  England  and  New  If 

Some  suppose  that  the  use  of  conventual  establishments  is  to 
provide  retreats  for  persons  who  have  met  reverses  or  disappoint- 

♦  Some  Orclors,  as  tlie  Cartluinian,  Cistorcian,  Reformed  Cnrmelites,  are  not 
actively  useful  to  society ;  but  it  does  not  follow  tliat  they  aro  not  useful  ia 
other  »oy« — liy  tlieir  prayers,  for  instance. 

t  Opening  u  book  of  diulogues  lately,  wo  saw  a  play  wliich  mif(ht  have  boon 
written  by  Marin  Monk.  We  tliink  tlie  autlior,  who  hails  from  Massacjusetts, 
might  lay  tlie  scene  nearer  home  than  South  America.  If  hu  docs  not  believe 
what  ho  writes,  what  a  person  to  bo  connectod  w'.th  education  I  If  ho  docs  be- 
liove  it,  it  is  easy  to  conjecture,  since  Fowl*  is  on  iie  title-page,  what  species  of 
bird  b«  most  resembles. 


I 


LIFE   OF   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


188 


?npral  cad 
y. 

very  bean- 
jf  France, 
;,  from  the 
I  the  large 
1(1  the  most 
•ther  charm 
is  the  sullen 
',  noon,  and 
adore  "  the 
States,  from 
0  California, 
d  be  natural 
used,  and,  in 
,r  which  they 
ret  this  is  far 

of  "facts" 
he  wretched 
,od  can  come 
diffusion  of 

will  sec  their 
on  the  same 
ed  Version,  in 

ishmcnts  is  to 
or  disappoint- 

nnnolites,  are  not 
aro  not  useful  in 

I  niiglit  hnvo  been 

tlocA  not  believe 
,1  If  lio  liocs  b«- 
0,  wlmt  species  of 


ments  in  the  world ;  or  who  have  become  weary  of  frivolity,  and 
wish  to  fiiul  a  quiet  home ;  or  who  desire  to  cultivate,  without  dis- 
traction, thi;  higher  branches  of  li.cruturc,  and  enjoy  tlie  society 
of  a  select  and  amiable  few.  Otii'}rs  imagine  that  the  good  of 
society  is  the  only  end  of  tlie  Religious  state. 

Now,  the  first  class  ought  to  remember,  that  in  a  convent,  whore 
all  are  obliged  to  rise  early,  spend  several  liours  daily  in  devotional 
exercises,  hide  their  individuality  under  a  common  name  and  a 
common  garb,  work  very  hard,  and  perform  many  duties  to  the 
public,  there  cannot  be  much  opportunity  of  doing  harm,  even 
should  the  will  be  not  wanting.  Neither  has  the  world  become  so 
immaculate  that  those  who  would  do  evil  must  needs  fly  from  it. 
Quite  tiie  contrary — people  who  preserve  their  "  respectability" 
may  wander  far  from  paths  of  rectitude,  and  yet  not  lose  caste  by 
their  aberrations. 

Nor,  yet,  should  persons  enter  Religion  solelij  because  of  the 
frivolity  of  the  world  ;  if  that  be  their  only  motive,  they  will  not 
persevere  long.  Even  the  teaching  of  youth,  the  visitation  of  the 
sick,  or  any  other  work  of  mercy,  is  not  the  main  object  for  which 
the  Church  permits  Religious  congregations  to  be  established. 
One  might  visit  the  sick  and  instruct  the  poor  with  immense  zeal 
and  success  without  being  a  Religious. 

The  Catholic  Church,  the  promoter  of  perrection,  the  fruitful 
parent  of  virginity,  sanctions  the  establishment  of  Religious  Orders, 
and  protects  them  by  her  decrees,  to  give  a  home  to  such  of  her 
children  as,  being  zealous  for  the  better  gifts,  are  not  content  with 
the  observance  of  the  commandments,  but  aspire  to  the  perfection 
of  the  counsels.  The  chief  business  of  Religious,  tiicn,  is  to  strive 
to  attain  perfection  by  the  observance  of  their  rules.  For  this 
thoy  are  separated  totally,  but  honorably,  from  the  world  ;  for 
this  they  have  quitted  happy  homes  and  affectionate  friends.  "  The 
Lord  tiiy  God  hath  chosen  thee  to  be  Ilis  peculiar  people,  and  to 
make  thee  higher  than  all  the  nations  He  hath  made  to  His  own 
praise  and  Name  and  glory." 

It  is  Religions  who  should  prove  to  the  world  th.it  the  Gospel 
counsels  are  not  impracticable.  Their  piety  should  make  repara- 
tion for  the  ingratitude  of  sinful,  thoughtless  man ;  their  virtues 


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TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Sciences 

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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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18!]k 


LIFE   OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


should  impetrate  graces  for  the  universe.  Wherever  they  reside, 
they  ought  to  be  as  the  ten  just  men  for  whose  sake  God  promised 
to  spare  the  sinful  city.  Whether  they  follow  the  aufj^ere  rule  of 
St.  Bruno  with  the  Carthusians,  or  the  mild  rule  of  St.  Augustine 
with  the  Ursulincs,  Visitandines,  and  Sisters  of  Mercy,  their  chief 
duty  is  to  attain  the  perfection  to  which  they  are  called ;  and 
should  they  ultimately  fail  in  this  point,  they  shall  have  chosen  a 
very  hard  road  to  hell,  as  St.  Bernard  observes. 

The  chief  end  of  every  Order  is  the  individual  perfection  of  ita 
members :  the  secondary  end  refers  to  the  duties  which  these  mem- 
bers freely  contract  towards  the  neighbor,  and  which  are  specified 
in  their  respective  rules. 

Now,  this  secondary  end  is  always  just  what  the  Church  wants 
most  at  the  epoch  in  which  each  Order  mckcs  its  appearance. 
Dominic  appeared  to  combat  the  Albigenses,  Ignatius  t©  defend 
the  Church  against  the  storms  of  the  sixteenth  century,  Vincent  de 
Paul  to  succor  the  poor,  De  la  Salle  to  educate  poor  boys,  Nano 
Nagle  to  educate  poor  girls ;  and  when  the  fierce  Revolution  had 
swept  away  nil  vestiges  of  the  Catholic  schools  of  France,  the 
venerated  Madame  Baret  established,  for  the  education  of  the 
rich  and  poor,  her  admirable  Society  of  the  Sacred  Heart, — a  So- 
ciety whose  labors  in  the  cause  of  education  can  never  bo  too 
highly  appreciated,  and  whose  pupils  ought  to  be  ashamed  if  they 
become  not,  in  after-life,  "  instruments  to  dififuse  happiness  arou.id 
them." 

The  same  Providence  that  gave  these  illustrious  personages  to 
His  Church  and  to  His  people,  raised  up  Catherine  McAuley  in 
her  native  land,  just  before  the  awful  time?  of  cholera,  and  famine, 
and  godless  education,  to  found  the  Order  of  Mercy,  for  the  special 
relief  of  the  poor  in  their  numerous  and  ever-varying  exigencies. 
The  three  objects  principally  specified  it^  her  Rule  are,  "  the  edu- 
cation of  the  poor,  the  visitation  of  the  sick,  ana  the  protection  of 
distressed  women  of  good  character." 

The  Foundress  built  a  hoOse  for  these  women,  of  whom  seventy 
was  the  average  number  protected.  Whoever  reads  the  regulations 
she  made  for  this  brauch  of  the  Institute,  cannot  fail  to  be  struck 
vith  her  wisdom.     The  average  period  of  their  stay  was  throe  or 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


iM 


's 


vet  they  reside, 
e  God  promised 
aufi^ere  rule  of 
f  St.  Augustine 
[ercy,  their  chief 
are  called;  and 
U  have  chosen  a 

perfection  of  its 
which  these  mera- 
hic*'.  are  specified 

the  Church  wants 
IS  its  appearance, 
gnatius  to  defend 
entury,  Vincent  de 
e  poor  boys,  Nano 
rce  Revolution  had 
ols  of  France,  the 
B  education  of  the 
;red  Heart,— a  So- 
can  never  bo  too 
,0  ashamed  if  they 
ie  happiness  arouad 

■ious  personages  to 
[thcrine  McAuley  ia 
iholera,  and  famine, 
[ercy,  for  the  special 
[-varying  exigencies, 
lulc  are,  "  the  cdu- 
ina  the  protection  of 

In,  of  whom  seventy 

Ircads  the  regulations 

Inot  fail  to  bo  struck 

eir  stay  was  three  or 


four  months.  Daring  this  time  they  were  instructed  in  their  re- 
ligious duties,  and  prepared  for  the  Sa<;ramcnts,  which  tbey  were 
required  to  approach  ou  the  first  Friday  of  every  month,  and  ou 
all  feasts  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  They  were  trained  to  laundry- 
worlc,  needle-work,  or  whatever  else  they  seemed  best  suited  for ; 
and  were  told,  they  could  expect  no  recommendation  from  the  Sis- 
ters  unless  their  diligence  deserved  it.  But  the  salvation  of  their 
souls  was  what  the  Foundress  chiefly  had  in  view  in  this  and  every 
other  department.    Thus  she  writes : 

"Distressed  women  of  good  character  admitted  to  the  House  of 
Mercy,  shall,  if  necessary,  be  instructed  in  the  pi'incipal  mysteries, 
and  required  to  comply  with  their  religious  obligations.  They  shall 
be  induced  to  repair,  as  much  as  possible,  their  past  neglect,  by 
piously  preparing  to  approach  the  Sacraments,  conforming  their 
will  to  the  regular  discharge  of  the  duties  of  the  state  in  which 
God  has  placed  them.* 

"Suitable employment  shall  be  sought  for,  and  great  ..tre  taken 
to  ploce  them  iu  situations  for  which  they  are  adapted,  in  order 
that  they  may  continue  such  length  of  time  in  them  as  shall  estab- 
lish a  character  on  which  they  can  depend  for  future  support. 
Many  leave  their  situations,  not  so  much  for  want  of  merit  as 
through  incapacity  to  fulfil  the  duties  in  which  they  uuwisciv  en- 
gaged. They  shall  not  be  encouraged  to  remain  long  in  the  House 
of  Mercy,  as  in  general  it  would  be  better  for  them  soon  to  enter 
on  that  f  tate  and  employment  by  which  they  are  to  live." 

Mother  McAuley,  to  counteract  a  habit  common  among  this 
class  of  persons,  directs  the  Sisters  "never  to  allow  them  to  speak 
of  the  families  with  whom  they  lived,  or  to  ask  tbe  reason  of  their 
leaving  their  respective  situations."  Only  the  Mother  Superior,  or 
a  Sister  appointed  by  her,  was  allowed  to  make  the  necessary  in- 
quiries on  these  subjects.  The  discipline  was  very  mild,  but  very 
strict.  The  women  were  obliged  to  keep  the  regulations,  but 
nothing  was  left  undone  to  promote  their  happiness.  Ou  their 
feast-days,  of  wMch  the  principal  are,  Christmas  Day,  tiio  Feast 
of  the  Sacred  Heart,   and  the  Feast  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy, 

*  This,  of  cuurie,  refun  to  cucli  of  tbe  dtitroised  womin  u  ue  C»thoUas. 


■^i 


lit 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Mother  McAuley  used  herself  to  aid  in  decorating  with  evergreens 
and  Qowers  their  dining-rooms,  etc.,  and,  with  several  of  the  Sis- 
ters, serve  and  wait  on  them  at  table.  Severity  in  this  department 
was  never  permitted,  or  indeed  required. 

One  day  a  young  Sister,  whose  temper  was  none  of  the  sweet 
est,  though  she  had  some  fine  qualities  which  led  the  Foundress  to 
hope  that  she  would  grow  gentle  in  time,  came  very  angrily  into 
the  community-room  to  complain  of  one  of  the  young  women  v'ho 
bad,  as  she  said,  wantonly  spoiled  all  the  fine  work  of  a  shirt 
front.    Mother  McAuley  looked  at  the  work.  '- 

''  It  is  not  so  very  bad,"  said  she,  softly. 

But  Sister  Eliza  declared  that  it  was  the  worst  sewing  ever  done. 

"  There  is  no  hurry  with  this  order,  I  believe,"  said  the  Foun- 
dress. 

*'  Not  the  least,"  replied  the  Sister  ;  "  she  will  have  plenty  of 
time  to  undo  it  and  make  it  properly." 

"  Then,  my  dear,  you  may  remain  here  and  do  it  yourself.  I 
shall  send  some  one  in  your  place  to  the  House  of  Mercy." 

"  But,"  objected  Sister  Eliza,  "  would  it  not  bo  better  to  make 
the  girl  herself  do  it  V 

"  She  will  make  the  next,  and  she  will  do  it  better  when  she 
sees  by  your  work  how  it  ought  to  be  done." 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  and  the  poor  postulant  was  obliged  to 
spend  her  day  over  this  "ither  uninteresting  work.  Having  learned 
by  experience  that  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  make  a  shirt  for  the 
Lord  Lieutenant,  she  was  much  more  considerate  in  future. 

Indeed,  Tilother  McAuley  was  never  weary  of  impressing  on 
the  Sisters  the  necessity  of  making  allowances  for  all  under  their 
charge.  If  Religious,  with  all  their  graces,  and  opportunities,  and 
early  influences,  are  not  always  above  the  weaknesses  of  human 
nature,  thsy  ought  certainly  make  many  excuses  for  these  weak- 
nesses, when  more  unpleas-xntly  manifested  in  the  poor,  ignorant 
creatures  with  whom  they  come  in  contact.  Strange  to  suy^  those 
who  can  hardly  bear  the  least  annoyance  themselves,  are  generally 
apt  to  bo  most  severe  on  others.  And  yet  tho  humble  pnblican 
has  more  chance  of  licavcn  than  tho  proud  pharisee  ;  and  when  all 
things  are  taken  into  account,  perhaps  tho  very  best  speclmeua  of 


i 


'■mm^im-' 


[ig  with  evergreens 
several  of  the  Sis- 
iu  tins  department 

none  of  the  sweet 
i  the  Foundress  to 
le  very  angrily  into 
young  women  v'ho 
le  work  of  a  shirt 


st  sewing  ever  done, 
ive,"  said  the  Foun- 

I  will  have  plenty  of 

d  do  it  yonrself.    I 

50  of  Mercy." 

t  be  better  to  make 

0  it  better  when  she 

tulant  was  obliged  to 
rork.   Having  learned 
make  a  shirt  for  the 
irate  in  future, 
iry  of  impressing  on 
for  all  under  their 
ind  opportunities,  and 
weaknesses  of  human 
cases  for  these  weak- 
u  the  poor,  ignorant 
Strange  to  say,  those 
mselves,  are  generally 
the  humble  publican 
harisee  ;  and  when  all 
ery  best  specimeua  of 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


187 


human  nature  are  not,  after  all,  so  transcftndent,  nor  are  the  worst 
60  despicable,  as  a  hasty,  uarefltcting  glance  would  lead  us  to  sup- 
pose. 

Look  at  the  following  contrast.  It  is  a  common  one  : 
My  parents  were  pious  Catholics.  The  first  words  they  taught 
me  to  lisp  were  the  holy  names  of  Jesus  and  Mary.  They  told 
me  I  was  created  for  heaver,  not  for  earth.  They  said  the  Divine 
child  lived  in  my  heart,  and  He  would  stay  there  forever,  if  I  did 
not  drive  him  away  by  being  naughty.  When  I  was  ill,  my  gentle 
mother  used  a  thousand  ingenious  contrivances  that  I  might  feel 
no  pain  ;  when  any  childish  trouble  brought  tears  to  my  eyes,  she 
kissed  them  away  ;  when  I  was  sad,  she  made  me  joyful.  Before 
I  closed  my  eyes  in  sleep  a  fond  father's  hand  rested  in  benediction 
on  my  little  head,  and  a  loving  mother's  kiss  sealed  my  lips.  She 
would  tell  me  how  God  sent  his  beautiful  angels  to  keep  watch 
over  my  slumbers  ;  and  such  was  my  implicit  faith  in  her  words, 
that  I  could  easily  imagine  I  saw  their  beauteous  wings  of  trans- 
parent gold  unfurled  above  my  tiny  bed  ;  and  when  I  prayed  in 
the  softest  wlnsper,  I  felt  that  they  heard  me,  Whether  my 
mother  was  noble  or  plebeian,  lettered  or  unlettered,  plain  or 
handsome,  as  che  world  judges,  I  thought  not ;  but  to  me  she  was 
superior  to  every  woman  in  creation,  except  my  Mother  iu  heaven. 
Whether  my  father  was  a  yeoman  or  a  laborer,  a  merchant  or  a 
barrister,  I  knew  not ;  but  in  my  eyes  ho  was  all  perfection,  he  was 
the  shadow  of  that  eternal  God  to  whom  lie  tauglit  me  to  say, 
"  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven."  My  education  was  finished  at 
home  among  these  holy  influences,  or  I  was  confided  to  the  ladies 
of  the  Sacred  Heart  or  the  Y  isitandines,  and  there,  almost  m  the 
very  sanctuary,  these  cloistered  sponses  of  Christ  tended  with  a 
maternal  care  the  sacred  sprouts  of  virtue  whicl  were  daily  spring- 
ing up.  My  mind  was  not  cultivated  at  the  expense  of  my  heart, 
and  I  was  taught  to  store  up  useful  erudition,  and  at  the  same  time 
keep  my  soul  unsullied.  And  if,  with  all  these  aids  and  influences, 
I  am  a  tolerably  good  Christi'in,  have  I  any  room  "  to  glory,"  or 
ought  my  virtue  to  inspire  me  with  any  sentiments  save  those  of 
profound  gratitude  to  Him  who  has  thus  prevented  me,  and  fear 
lest  I  prove  an  uafaithfal  stewai*d  of  His  gifts  H 


188 


LIFE  OF   CATnERINE   MCAULET. 


Now  look  at  another  picture  :  ■■; 

Last  evening  I  strolled  to  the  piazza,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
gorgeous  beauty  of  the  setting  sun.  Lilac  aud  laburnum  and 
mock-orango  spoke  of  the  merry  spring,  aud  tlic  soft  air  was  red- 
olent of  perfume.  A  woman,  dressed  in  tawdry  finery,  passed 
slowly  on,  the  sight  of  whom  broke  most  disagreeably  on  my  sweet 
rercric.  Her  coarse  laugh  grated  on  my  ears,  and  a  glance  at  her 
rccklesB  countenance  sent  u  chill  to  my  heart.  Last  night  she 
slept  in  a  prison  ;  to-night,  too,  she  will  sleep  there,  or  in  a  worse 
place.  Women  and  girls  pass  by,  and  the  color  unconsciously 
mounts  to  the  cheek  of  modesty  ;  they  recede  from  the  wretched 
creature,  because  there  is  contamination  in  the  very  air  that 
touches  her.  She  has  placed  herself  beyond  the  pale  of  human 
sympathy,  and  if  any  weep  for  her,  they  dure  not  hold  intercourse 
with  her.     Now,  let  us  glance  at  her  history  : 

She  lost  her  mother  before  she  knew  her,  or  what  is  worse,  she 
was  reared  by  a  bad  mother.  An  inebriate  father  beat  his  unfor* 
tunate  little  one,  and  left  her  to  starve  or  get  food  as  best  she 
could.  The  miserable  hut  of  a  drunkard  is  not  a  very  pleasant 
place,  and  the  child  naturally  took  to  the  streets.  No  one  ever 
taught  her  to  pray,  a  kind  word  was  never  addressed  to  her. 
From  her  own  experience,  she  was  not  aware  that  such  a  thing  as 
moral  goodness  existed — she  had  never  scon  any.  Iler  acquaintance 
were  all  as  bad  as  herself,  or  worse.  Well ;  shall  m'c  despise  her, 
or  shall  we  weep  over  her  ?  Alas,  had  this  forlorn  outcast  been 
brought  up  with  a  small  fraction  of  the  care  so  lavishly  bestowed 
on  us,  the  cold,  damp  floor  of  a  prison-cell  had  not  been  her  com- 
fortless couch  to-night  1 

Compassion  for  the  siuner,  and  gratitude  to  God  who  has 
shielded  us  in  so  many  ways,  are  the  chief  sentiments  with  which 
the  sins  of  our  less  fortunate  fellow-creatures  should  inspire  us. 

In  1829  a  circumstance  occurred  which  confirmed  the  Foundress 
in  her  determination  never  to  allow  the  House  of  Mercy  to  be 
subject  to  the  interference  of  a  non-resident  committee. 

Late  one  night,  a  violent  ringing  startled  tlic  few  ladies  who 
then  resided  at  Baggot-street  House.  When  the  door  was  opened, 
a  young  girl,  half  stupefied  with  hungei-  and  fatigue,  implored 


LIFE  OP   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


180 


jh  a  glimpse  of  tbe 
aud  laburnum  aad 
ic  soft  air  was  red- 
wdry  finery,  passed 
reeably  on  m;  sweet 
and  a  glance  at  her 
rt.  Last  night  she 
I  there,  or  in  a  worse 
color  unconsciously 
e  from  the  wretched 
I  the  very  air  that 
d  the  pale  of  humaa 
not  hold  intercourse 

or  what  is  worse,  she 
father  beat  his  unfor- 

get  food  as  beat  she 
is  not  a  very  pleasant 
streets.    No  one  ever 
iTcr  addressed  to  her. 
3  that  such  a  thing  as 
ii,y.   Her  acquaintance 
;  shall  we  despise  her, 
,s  forlorn  outcast  been 
3  so  lavishly  bestowed 

lad  not  been  her  com- 

idc  to  God  who  has 
sentiments  with  which 

3  should  inspire  us. 

mfirmcd  the  Foundress 
louse  of  Mercy  to  be 
committee. 

ed  the  few  ladies  who 
n  the  door  was  opened, 
aud  fatigue,  implored 


shelter  for  the  night,  saying  she  had  travelled  a  long  way  on  foot, 
and  had  no  friends  in  Dublin.  The  wild  glare  of  her  large  dark 
eyes,  and  the  disorder  of  her  dress  and  hair,  were  calculated  to 
exirite  unfavorable  suspicions  ;  but,  as  there  could  be  no  doubt 
regarding  her  distress,  Mother  McAuiey  had  a  comfortable  meal 
prepared  for  her,  and  decided  that  she  could  remain  till  morning, 
but  apart-  from  the  others,  as  appearances  were  certainly  unfavor- 
able, aud  the  Foundress  was  always  inflexible  in  refusing  to  admit 
to  the  House  of  Mercy  persons  of  doubtful  character.  The  poor 
creature,  after  having  eaten  a  little,  told  her  name  and  story.  She 
had  quarrelled  with  a  harsh  step-mother,  and  in  tho  excitement  of 
the  moment,  had  run  away,  she  knew  not  whither,  from  her 
father's  house.  Regretting  her  imprudence  when  it  was  too  late 
to  return,  she  Walked  on  to  Dublin,  hoping  to  get  admission  into 
some  house  of  refuge,  and  having  applied  to  one,  she  was  told  she 
had  not  the  slightest  chance  for  many  days,  as  the  Committee 
received  applications  only  at  stated  time?.  The  woman  who  gave 
her  this  unwelcome  information,  moved  by  the  poor  girl's  tears, 
directed  her  to  Baggot-street.  Next  morning,  one  of  the  ladies 
recognized  the  wanderer  as  the  daughter  of  an  attorney  who 
practised  law  in  a  small  town  not  many  miles  from  Dublin,  and 
who  had  lately,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  his  grown-up  children, 
contracted  a  second  marriage.  She  was  kept  at  Baggot-street  till 
provided  with  a  situation  as  governess  in  a  respectable  family  ; 
but  happily  her  father  soon  forgave  her,  and  took  her  home. 

When  this  poor  young  lady  applied  at  the  institution,  her 
despair  had  almost  reached  its  climax.  Had  she  been  refused 
admission,  her  body  had  perhaps  floated  on  the  Liflfey  ere  morning, 
or  she  might  have  gained  protection  at  the  expense  of  her 
reputation. 

For  many  months  after  the  opening  of  the  House,  its  inmates 
and  the  strangers  who  applied  for  work  or  admission  met  daily  in 
a  large  hall  for  instruction  and  prayer.  Mother  McAuley  often 
spoke  of  the  honesty  of  these  poor  visitor?.  As  long  as  she  kept 
what  she  pleasautly  called  "  open  house,"  there  was  never  any  thing 
stolen,  except  an  old  chair,  on  which  she  used  to  sit  when  instruct- 
ing them,  and  which  was  probably  abstracted  as  a  relic  by  some 


.L 


190 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


devotee  wlio  regarded  its  usual  occupant  as  a  saint.  However, 
as  the  number  to  be  instructed  increased,  she  separated  the  inmates 
cntkely  from  the  externs,  to  guard  against  the  danger  of  admitting 
persons  of  exceptionable  character  among  the  voung  women  of  the 
Uouse  of  Mercy,  that  being  exclusively  for  such  as  bore  untar- 
nished reputations. 


iL 


.  *'J 


it 


lET. 


'¥5?- 


ft  saint.  However, 
parated  the  inmates 
darker  of  admitting 
■.  oung  women  of  the 
uch  as  bore  untar* 


•nth 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


.  ::'M 


■:..>jiZ 


■It 


Visitntion  of  tlio  sick. — How  Mother  MoAnley  caused  the  public  hospitals  to 
be  opened  to  all  religions  bodies  that  chose  to  visit  them.— The  poor,  the 
middle  class,  and  the  rich. — Court  life  at  VerKuilles  considered  by  Madame 
Louise  to  be  more  monotonous  than  conventual  life. — "  Good  Queen  Maude." 
— The  poor  the  treasures  of  the  Chnrcb. — Anecdotes. 

THE  vkitation  of  the  sick  is  the  second  object  of  the  Order  of 
Mercy.  The  regulations  for  the  projwr  discharge  of  this  most 
important  duty  we  shall  more  particularly  explain  when  we  speak 
of  that  part  of  the  rule  composed  by  the  Foundress.  The  visita- 
tion of  prisons  and  hospitals  is  also  a  feature  of  the  Order  of 
Mercy,  At  the  period  of  its  foundation,  no  religious  body  in 
Dublin  was  permitted  to  visit  the  public  hospitals,  though  the 
majority  of  the  patients  were  Catholics.  To  remedy  this,  she 
visited  Sir  Patrick  Dunn's  Hospital,  the  head  phvEician  of  which 
was  her  intimate  friend.  In  the  course  of  conversation,  she  took 
an  opportunity  of  asking  if  there  would  be  any  objection  on  part 
of  the  managers  to  her  or  her  iViends  visiting  the  patients  occar 
sionally,  for  the  purpose  of  imparting  instruction  and  consolatioih 
The  governor,  to  whom  this  question  was  referred,  courteously 
replied  that  she  and  her  friends  were  perfectly  welcome  to  visit 
the  patients  as  often  as  she  or  they  desired.  The  managers  of 
Mercer's,  Madame  Stephens',  and  other  hospitals  were  of  the  same 
opinion,  and  from  that  time  (1828)  all  the  Religious  bodies  who 
chose  to  do  so,  have  been  allowed  the  privilege  of  visiting  these 
institutions,  preparing  the  patients  for  the  Sacraments,  and  assisting 
them  to  die  well. 

Miiss  McAuley  took  the  precaution  to  make  this  request,  not  as 
a  member  of  a  religious  society,  but  as  a  benevolent  secular  lady. 
She  went  to  each  hospital  in  her  carriage,  and  dressed  as  became 
facr  rank  in  socit  ty.   This  sbi)  did,  not  from  ostentation,  but  because 


192 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCATJLEY. 


in  this  instance  she  felt  that  the  world  could  be  best  vanquished  by 
its  own  weapons.  She  never  appeared  in  this  style  again  ;  but 
where  she  presented  herself  as  a  Sister  of  Mercy,  she  required  the 
managers  to  keep  their  word,  which  they  did.  She  was' very 
anxious  that  the  Sisters  should  have  a  hospital  of  their  own,  in 
which  the  spiritual  and  temporal  wants  of  the  poor  could  be  per- 
fectly ministered  to,  and  from  which  patients  shouKi  not  be  suffered 
to  go  till  their  health  was  perfectly  restored.  She  .aw,  with  grief, 
that  many  poor  convalescents  were  obliged  to  leave,  and  resume 
work  before  their  strength  was  sufficiently  recovered.  "  Besides," 
she  added,  "  though  some  governmeiit  hospitals  have  comfortable 
arrangements  and  an  efficient  staff  of  nurses,  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence betv7een  the  attend M^e  of  hired  persons  and  the  services  ot 
those  who  devote  theriselves  to  the  sick  for  the  love  of  God." 
But  it  pleased  Provideiice  to  reserve  this  good  work  for  her  sne- 
tessors,  and  the  arrangements  designed  by  the  Foundress  have 
been  fully  carried  out  in  the  monster  hospital  Mater  Misericor- 
due,  in  which  are  two  hundred  patients,  all  of  the  poorest  classes, 
under  the  exclusive  care  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy. — See  appendix. 
In  1828,  the  Sisters  bad  the  visitation  of  three  hospitals,  besides 
an  immense  number  of  sick  in  their  respective  dwellings.  The  lanes 
off  the  fine  streets  idjoiuing  Baggot-strcet  abounded  with  multi- 
tudes of  poor,  while  those  in  the  Liberties  were  not  yet  wholly 
explored.  Mother  McAuley  was  ever  ready  to  make  the  greatest 
sacrifices  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering  and  afflicted.  Cases  of  pecu- 
liar distress,  or  most  loathsome  disease,  she  always  attended  her- 
self, and,  for  the  comfort  of  the  poor  sufferers,  she  would  remain 
with  them  during  the  most  painful  operations.  On  one  occasion, 
being  requested  by  a  clergyman  to  visit  a  young  lady  who  had 
come  to  Dublin  to  have  a  surgical  operation  performed  on  her 
knee,  she  had  such  compassion  on  her  friendless  position,  that  she 
had  her  removed  to  the  House  in  Baggot-street,  where  she  nursed 
her  with  maternal  care.  During  the  amputation,  she  remained 
with  her  to  assist  and  comfort  her ;  and  she  was  all  the  more  at- 
tentive, OS  the  patient  received  all  her  care  as  a  matter  of  course, 
Hud  did  not  evince  the  slightest  gratitude.  She  even  left  Mother 
McAuley  to  vav  all  the  expenses  occasioned  by  her  illness,  and 


vanqnished  by 
le  again  ;  but 
0  required  the 
Slie  was' very 
f  tlieir  own,  in 

could  be  per- 
Qot  be  suffered 
aw,  witli  grief, 
re,  and  resume 
I.     "  Besides," 
76  comfortable 
i  a  great  dififer- 
the  services  ot 
love  of  God." 
rk  for  her  sne- 
foundress  bave 
iter  MisericoT' 
poorest  classes, 
—  See  ajypendir. 
ospitals,  besides 
ngs.    The  lanes 
ded  with  mnlti- 

not  yet  wholly 
ike  the  greatest 
Cases  of  peca- 
■s  attended  her- 
le  would  remain 
In  one  occasion, 
ig  lady  who  had 
srformed  on  her 
ositiou,  that  she 
?here  she  nursed 
n,  she  remained 
all  the  more  at- 
natter  of  course, 
!ven  left  Mother 
'  her  illuess,  and 


^"^r 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


mw9 


these  were  considerable,  as  many  physicians  and  surgeons  held 
lengthened  consultations  before  the  operation  was  performed. 

The  intimate  knowledge  of  the  wants  of  the  poor  which  Miss 
McAuley's  associates  gained  after  a  few  explorations  of  the  garrets 
and  cellars  of  southern  Dublin,  excited  their  most  tender  compas- 
sion, while  it  also  led  them  to  expect  from  those  to  whom  they 
applied  .on  behalf  of  such  wretchedness,  an  amount  commensurate 
to  the  misery  they  desired  to  relieve.  Sometimes  they  manifested 
surprise  that  their  petitions  were  not  only  refused,  but  refused  in 
rather  unmeasured  language.  On  such  occasions.  Mother  Cathe- 
rine would  playfully  remind  them,  that  when  they  personated  the 
poor  whose  claims  they  advocated,  they  must  now  and  then  expect 
to  receive  the  treatment  of  beggars— followers  of  Christ,  they  must 
share  the  fortunes  of  disciples.  "  The  wealthy,"  said  she,  "  have 
generally  but  a  very  limited  knowledge  of  the  actual  privations  of 
the  poor,  and  even  you  yourselves  have  but  lately  gained  any  in- 
formation  on  the  subject." 

Mother  McAuley  ofteu  observed  that  the  middle  class  seemed 
always  the  readiest  to  relieve  the  poor,  and  the  most  forward  in 
every  good  work.  "  The  rich  do  comparatively  little  for  religion," 
said  she,  "  and  the  poor  cannot  aflford  to  do  much.  The  middle 
class — I  mean  the  upper  farming  class,  small  merchants,  shopkeep- 
ers, and  the  liko— i;i  the  most  influential  class.  It  gives  the  best 
Priests  and  Religious  to  the  Church,  it  gives  employment  to  the 
poor,  it  builds  our  chapels,  it  supports  our  charitable  institutions. 
When  persons  of  that  rank  become  Religious,  their  parents  can 
give  them  the  means.  Look,  for  instance,  at  Sisters  M.  Their 
father  paid  theur  rovitiate  expenses,  and  gave  them  a  thousand 
pounds  each,  and  he  would  not  give  them  less.  Now,  there  is 
Sister  W.  Her  father  is  of  the  upper  class,  keeps  a  carriage  and 
four,  goes  to  the  Castle  and  to  court,  and  yet  he  will  give  bis 
daughter  only  five  hundred  pounds,  a  sum  hardly  suflScient  to  cover 
her  expenses.    All  he  has  goes  to  keep  up  exterior  show."* 

Indeed,  in  many  instances,  the  rich  can  afford  to  do  but  little  for 
the  poor.   Take  the  very  highest  class,  those  at  court.    They  spend 

•  The  Foundress  mado  the  above  remarks  to  tlio  Mother  Superior  of  tlio  C«r- 
low  Conveut  of  Morc^,  from  whom  we  had  an  account  of  thorn. 


lU 


LIFE  OP  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


!:■■ 

I' 


S: 


hours  in  frivolous  amusements, — the  Park,  the  opera,  the  theatre ; 
later  on,  balls.  The  toilette  consumes  five  or  six  hours  daily 
Night  must  be  turned  into  day.  Fashion  is  the  most  absolate  of 
rulers,  and  etiquette  requires  all  this.  "As  we  have  our  stated 
actions  to  perform,"  said  the  royal  Carmelite,  Madame  Louisa, 
*'  so  have  they  at  court,  only  theirs  are  much  harder  than  ours. 
For  example :  at  five  in  the  evening  I  go  to  choir — at  Yersailles  I 
went  to  play ;  at  nine  the  bell  calls  me  to  matins — at  Yersailles 
I  was  summoned  to  go  to  the  theatre.  One  never  rests  at  court, 
thoagh  there  is  rarely  any  change  in  the  monotonous  circle  of  vani- 
ties." New,  if  fashion  requires  ladies  of  rank,  whether  they  be 
nobly  born  or  possess  only  the  aristocracy  of  wealth,  to  dress  sev- 
eral times  Qrday,  to  be  present  at  the  theatre  and  opera,  to  dance 
till  five  in  the  morning, — and  all  this  several  times  a-week, — hojf 
much  leisure  can  such  persons  have  for  God  or  His  poor  ? 

There  was  a  time  when  kings  and  queens  wore  instruments  of 
penance  beneath  their  gorgeous  state  robes ;  when  royai  hands 
ministered  to  Christ  in  His  poor;  when  royal  bounty  covered  the 
land  with  institutions  for  their  relief;  when  the  fair  fingers  of 
beautiful  princesses,  and  their  noble  maids  of  honor,  wrought  the 
priestly  vestments  in  curions  embroidery  ;  when  diamonds  and  pearls 
were  taken  from  the  crown  to  deck  the  tabernacle  : — alas !  that 
time  has  passed  away  with  the  superstitions  of  the  dark  ages. 
The  world  does  not  now  admire  such  practices ;  but  let  us  never 
forget  that  the  same  world  "ice  placed  the  garment  of  a  fool  on 
the  Incarnate  Wisdom  of  the  Father. 

"  Help  me  to  perform  an  act  of  charity  and  humility,"  said  "Good 
Queen  Maude"*  to  her  brother.  King  Alexander  of  Scotland,  when 
he  surprised  her  washing  the  sores  of  lepers.  And  when  her  courtiers 
expressed  dissatisfaction  because  she  spent  so  much  time  with  the 
poor,  she  made  them  this  beaatiful  reply :  "  Our  Lord  himself  ex- 
ample gave  for  so  to  do." 

When  the  heathen  tyrant  pressed  St.  Lawrence  to  deliver  up  the 
treasures  of  the  Church,  the  glorious  martyr  showed  him  the  poor, 
the  blind,  the  sick,  and  the  maimed,  saying  :  "  Behold  the  treas- 

*  Matilda,  wife  of  Henry  Beauciero,  and  daughter  of  St.  Margaret  of  Sootlkod. 


/ 


V 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


195 


the  theatre ; 

hours  daily 
st  absolute  of 
re  our  stated 
dame  Louisa, 
.er  than  ours, 
at  Versailles  I 
-at  Versailles 
■ests  at  court. 

circle  of  vani- 
lether  they  be 
1,  to  dress  sev- 
)pera,  to  dance 

a-week, — ^how 
poor  ? 

instruments  of 
en  royai  hands 
nty  covered  the 

fair  fingers  of 
or,  wrought  the 
londs  and  pearls 
le:— alasl  that 

the  dark  ages, 
ut  let  us  never 
nt  of  a  fool  on 

lity,"  said  "Good 

Scciland,  when 

hen  her  courtiers 

;h  time  with  the 

lOrd  himself  ex- 

to  deliver  up  the 
ed  him  the  poor, 
;ehold  the  treas- 

irgftret  of  SootlMid. 


ores  of  the  Church,"  and  such  treasures  the  world  cares  not  to  dis- 
pute with  her.  The  poor  are,  and  ever  will  be,  the  treasures  of 
that  Church  founded  by  Him  who  has  promised  that  He  would 
consider  as  done  to  Himself  whatever  should  be  done  to  them. 

Indeed,  the  Sisters  often  observed  that  the  faith,  the  piety,  and 
the  resignation  evinced  by  the  poor  might  put  to  ahame  many 
who  had  better  opportunities.  Coarseness,  ignorance,  and  that 
roughness  so  trying  to  refinement  were  common  enough,  but  re- 
deeming points  were  numerous  indeed  The  Sisters  were  accus- 
tomed to  say  that  if  they  went  out  to  teach,  they  seldom  came 
home  without  learning  something  ;  and  the  edifying  occurrences  of 
the  day  often  afforded  matter  for  instructive  and  amusing  conver- 
sation at  recreation.  Amusing  we  say,  for  however  pious  the  Irish 
poor  are,  they  never  lose  their  humorous  modes  of  expressing 
themselves.    Take  the  following  as  an  instance  in  thousands. 

Visiting  an  old  man,  the  Sisters  having  consoled  him  and  relieved 
his  present  wants,  recited  some  prayers  suited  to  his  condition. 
Seeing  the  extreme  indigence  in  which  he  lived,  the  senior  Sister 
naturally  spoke  to  him  of  heaven,  and  said  a  few  words  calculated 
to  stimulate  his  confidence  in  God.  The  venerable  patient  looked 
at  her  reproachfully.  Evidently  he  did  not  agree  to  all  she 
advanced. 

"  J7ope  for  heaven,  Sister  ?"  said  he.    "  I'm  certain  of  heaven." 

She  admired  his  confidence,  but  gently  suggested  that  certainty 
belongs  to  another  world.  But  he  was  incredulous.  His  own 
doctrine  was  more  consoling,  and  he  refused  to  give  it  up. 

"  Sister,"  said  he,  "  when  I  was  a  boy  I  heard  my  mother  (the 
heavens  be  her  bed !)  telling  how  our.  Saviour — upraise  be  to  His 
holy  name  I — said  :  Blessed  are  the  poor,  for  tJusirs  is  the  king' 
dom  of  heaven.  Jfow,  I  wa  always  poor,  and  I  wished  to  bo 
poor  like  Him,  and  since  the  AlL<ighty  God  made  heaven  so  come- 
at-dble,  that  it  can  be  got  for  nothing,  I'm  sure  of  going  there, 
for  He  would  not  deceive  me." 

Did  that  "desperate  lover  of  poverty,"  as  Bossuet  calls  St. 
Francis  of  Assisium,  love  his  "  spouse  poverty"  more  dearly  than 
did  this  poor  man,  who,  in  firm  reliance  on  that  one  word  of  Christ, 
had  suffered  contentedly  and  joyfully  fourscore  years  of  misery  ? 


"•**■ 


lye 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  M«AULEY. 


Eminent  charity,  too,  tlic  Sisters  fonnd  common  among  the  poor. 
One  day  calling  at  the  room  of  a  lough-looking  applewoman,  they 
found  a  girl  of  about  fourteen  in  an  advanced  stage  of  cons'itaption. 
There  was  an  air  of  coniwrt  about  the  apartment  that  is  seldom 
met  with  in  places  of  that  class.  Every  thing  was  scrupulously 
clean.  The  orange  and  lemonade  showed  that  the  poor  child's 
physical  wants  were  attended  to  ;  for  cheap  as  these  little  delica- 
cies are,  the  indigent  cannot  always  procure  them.  A  few  wild- 
flowers  gave  the  sick-chamber  a  cheering  appearance,  and  glad- 
dened the  heart  of  the  young  patient,  whose  life  was  slowly  ebb- 
ing. Apparently,  she  was  an  only  child,  the  sole  comfort  her 
mother  had  in  this  world.  The  Sister  supposed  this,  and  consoled 
the  woman  accordingly,  but  to  bcr  great  surprise  this  was  not  the 
case. 

"  What  relation  is  she  to  yca,  then  ?"  asked  the  Sister,  thinking 
that  as  the  poor  woman  had  sold  nearly  all  her  clothes  to  gfcitify 
the  child's  fancies  for  various  kinds  of  food,  she  might  be  glad  to 
get  her  into  the  hospital.  But  this  poor  woman,  rude  and  igno- 
rant as  she  seemed,  had  charity  enough  to  embrace  the  whole  hu- 
man race  as  her  brethren  : — 

"  The  child  is  nothing  to  me,  ma'am,"  said  she,  "  but  the  same 
blood-relation  we  all  are  o?ie  to  another." 

Alas,  ov  the  judgment-day  many  a  one  who  now  thinks  it  much 
to  givo  the  crumbs  from  his  table  to  his  suffering  brother,  will  be 
put  to  tihame  by  the  charity  of  that  •  poor  woman,  who  choKO  to 
suffer  cold  and  hunger  rather  than  see  one  of  her  kind,  one  of  her 
eight  hundred  millions  of  "  blood  relations"  in  want  of  comforts  I 

From  the  prison,  too,  the.  Sisters  could  gain  edification.  How 
many  could  they  comfort  and  instruct  1  How  many  could  t'jey 
prepare  for  the  long-neglected  sacraments !  And  if  some  fell  away, 
would  not  a  largo  number  persevere  ?  How  many  suffered,  like 
the  good  tliief,  deservedly  bat  patiently,  and  accepted  their  suffer 
ings  as  an  atonement  for  their  sins,  going  out  to  execution  almost 
as  joyfully  as  the  saints  went  to  martyrdom  !  Verily,  God  has 
chosen  souls  in  the  most  unlikely  places. 

One  old  man,  with  whom  the  sisters  had  frequently  remonstrated 
for  appearing  a  little  too  often  in  that  suspicious  quarter,  was  bO 


^ 


)ng  the  poor, 
iwoman,  they 
consiiiaption. 
lat  is  seldom 
scrupulously 
J  poor  child's 
e  little  dclica- 
A  few  wild- 
ice,  and  glad- 
as  slowly  ebb- 
e  comfort  her 
I,  and  consoled 
18  was  not  the 

Sister,  thinking 
)thes  to  gratify 
ght  be  glad  to 
rude  and  igno- 
B  the  whole  hu- 

"  but  the  same 

r  thinks  it  much 
brother,  will  bo 
a,  who  choKO  to 
iind,  one  of  her 
,nt  of  comforts  ! 
lification.    How 
nany  could  tbey 
f  some  fell  away, 
any  suffered,  like 
)ted  their  suffer 
execution  almost 
Verily,  God  has 

nlly  remonstrated 
quarter,  waa  bO 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


197 


]] 


well  known  to  the  authorities  that  they  expected  him  at  particular 
times  as  surely  as  they  expected  wheat  at  harvest.  As  he  knew 
all  the  regulations  well,  he  used  to  tell  strangers  the  hour  the  Sis- 
ters visited,  and  lend  them  his  catechism,  which  he  always  carried 
about  him,  though  ho  was  "  no  scholar." 

"  Is  it  possible  you  a^e  here  again,  James  ?"  said  the  Sister,  a 
little  sternly,  one  day,  to  this  ancient  prisoner, 

"  And  sure  if  I  wasn't,  ma'am,  who'd  teach  these  other  boys 
their  prayers,  and  lend  them  the  catechism  ?"  queried  the  zealous 
"  boy,"  for  though  the  sun  had  daily  risen  and  set  on  him  for  half 
a  century  at  least,  he  always  called  himself  a  boy. 

The  Sister  suggested  that  he  might  more  profitably  exercise  tho 
apostolic  functions  elsewhere,  hinting  that,  as  a  prisoner,  his  ex- 
ample might  neutralize  tlie  effects  of  his  preoching.  But  James 
insisted  that  he  was  a  harmless  "  boy,"  who  never  did  worse  than 
"  take  a  drop,"  and  when  he  did  commit  this  misdemeanor,  he 
always  took  the  precaution  to  lay  aside  his  scapulars. 

Donnybrook  Fair  was  held  in  the  ensuing  week,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  the  Sisters  on  their  next  visit  found  Jaraea  enjoying  tho 
hospitality  of  the  prison,  and  as  zealous  as  ever,  though  somewhat 
shy  of  being  noticed.  A  few  patches  of  sticking-plaster  and  an  ar- 
tificial black  eye,  eloquently  testified  that  he  had  not  contented 
himself  with  being  a  mere  spectator  of  the  "  humors  of  Donny- 
brook." On  the  whole,  his  conduct  seemed  inexcuso  ole,  and  the 
Sister  approached  to  give  tbc  venerable  sinner  a  severe  lecture  : — 

"  Here  again,  after  all  your  promises,"  said  she,  by  way  of 
preface. 

"  Ah,  then,  sure  if  I  wasn't  here  sometimes,  ma'am,  I'd  never 
have  a  chance  of  seeing  yer  sweet  face,  or  listening  to  the  ladies 
at  all,  at  uU,"  said  the  ready-witted  rogue. 

The  youngest  Sister  in  the  community  did  not  laugh  more  heartily 
when  such  little  anec'jtes  enlivened  tho  recreation,  than  did  the 
grave,  dignified  Foundress. 

Speaking  of  tho  recreations,  we  may  remark  that  Mother 
McAuley  was  always  the  chief  promoter  of  the  innocent  mirth 
which  enlivened  them.  Slie  would  sing  a  song,  or  tell  a  story,  or 
describe  something  she  had  seen,  according  as  the  Sisters  asked 


uMUMI'IIWii 


198 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULEY. 


her,  and  she  never  seemed  weary  of  their  importunity.  That  those 
who  were  not  accustomed  to  conventual  life  might  not  'ose  time  in 
casting  about  for  a  topic  to  converse  on,  the  following  subjects 
were  suggested  as  matter  for  useful  and  edifying  conversation  : — 

1.  Any  agreeable  examples  from  the  public  or  private  lectures. 

2.  The  life  of  some  particular  Saints,  especially  one  to  whom 
there  may  be  a  growing  devotion.  j  ) 

3.  Something  from  the  Annals  of  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith.* 

4.  Any  pleasant  occurrence  in  the  Schools,  House  of  Mercy,  or 
Visitation. 

5.  The  virtues  of  deceased  or  absent  Sisters. 

It  was  chiefly  at  recreation  that  Mother  McAuley  studied  the 
Sisters'  dispositions.  In  listening  to  their  accounts  of  the  pleasant 
occurrences  of  the  day,  she  sought  to  discover  whether  they  were 
"  animated  with  that  cordial  love  and  sublime  idea  of  the  Insti- 
tute," with  "  the  most  tender  pity  and  compassion  for  the  poor," 
which  she  considered  so  essential,  that  she  places  it  among  the 
duties  of  the  Mistress  of  Novices  to  impress  these  dispositions  on 
their  hearts.  The  virtues  of  deceased  and  absent  Sisters,  too,  she 
loved  to  see  the  o'aers  note ;  for,  while  many  things  in  the  lives 
of  the  Saints  are  more  admirable  than  imitable,  the  sanctity  ac- 
quired by  the  performance  of  ordinary  actions  must  ever  be  a  sub- 
ject of  reflection  peculiarly  useful  to  those  who  mast  work  out  their 
salvation  by  the  same  actions.  Any  special  instance  of  recollec- 
tion or  humility,  as  the  following,  was  sure  to  be  discussed  : — 

It  happened  that,  while  the  Convent  was  greatly  crowded,  two 
Sistcis  were  obliged  for  n  time  to  occupy  the  same  cell.  One  of 
them,  being  appointed  infirmarian,  was  desired  to  administer  some 
prescription  to  the  other.  Having  taken  the  directions,  she  asked 
where  her  patient  slept. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  do  not  know?"  asked  the  ex-infirmarian. 

"  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  heard,"  returned  the  new  "  of- 
ficial." 

"  Why,  she  has  occupied  the  same  cell  with  you  these  six  weeks." 

The  new  inflrmarian  reddened  slightly ;  she  knew  that  some 

*  Tho  AiinniA  of  tlio  Propagation  of  the  Faith  wore  gonerully  read  at  supper, 
tlie  New  Teitameat  at  dinuer. 


11 


,    That  those 
t  'ose  time  ia 
wing  svibjects 
rersation  :— 
rate  lectures, 
one  to  whom 

of  the  Faith* 
of  Mercy,  or 


sy  stndled  the 
of  the  pleasant 
ther  they  were 
I  of  the  Insti- 
for  the  poor," 
it  among  the 
dispositions  oa 
iisters,  too,  she 
ngs  in  the  lives 
the  sanctity  ac- 
t  ever  be  a  sub- 
work  out  their 
Qce  of  rccoUec- 
iscussed : — 
y  crowded,  two 
e  cell.    One  of 
administer  some 
tions,  she  asked 

■infirmarian. 
?d  the  new  "  of- 

;hc8e  six  weeks." 
Icnew  that  some 

rnlly  read  ikt  supper, 


nrrii    nwi  r-    iwwi  i 


11 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


iii 


Sister  shared  her  cell,  bat  had  never  raised  her  eyes  to  see  who 
it  was.    This  recollection  was  very  edifying  indeed. 

Another  of  the  early  Sisters— whose  name  we  may  mention,  for 
she  has  ceased  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  this  passing  world — Sister 
M.  Gertrude  Hogan,  was  quite  a  model  of  humility.  Sprung  from 
an  obscure  family,  which,  however,  was  ennobled  not  only  by  vir- 
tue, which  alone  is  true  nobility,  but  also  by  the  brilliant  genius  of 
her  celebrated  brother,  Hogan  the  sculptor,  whose  reputation  was 
European,  and  whose  chisel  seemed  destined  to  revive  the  glories 
of  the  age  of  Michael  Angelo  ;  she,  with  talents  little  inferior  to 
his,  entered  the  Institute  while  yet  very  young.  Her  fervent  piety, 
^  and  exact  observance  of  rule,  soon  won  her  a  higher  reputation  for 
virtue  than  she  bad  already  borne  for  tplpnc.  She  once  acknowl- 
edged that  her  ruling  passion  was  pride ;  but,  during  her  whole 
religious  life,  only  one  development  of  this  was  noticed.  The  fol- 
lowing were  the  circumstances  : 

While  a  novice,  she  asked  leave  to  apply  to  her  friends  for  a  few 
frames  in  which  to  put  some  pious  pictures  for  the  ckss  she  in- 
structed. When  the  frames  came,  they  were  unpacked  and  laid 
on  her  desk  in  the  Novitiate.  At  recreation,  one  of  the  novices 
having  asked  her  where  the  frames  were  got,  she  colored  slightly, 
and  abruptly  gave  some  evasive  answer.  An  interior  struggle  en- 
sued, and  after  a  moment  or  two,  resolving  to  conquer  her  pride  at 
any  price,  she  said,  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  all  in 
the  room,  "  Excuse  me,  dear  Sister.  These  frames  came  from  my 
house ;  and  I  am  so  proud,  that  I  was  ashamed  to  tell  you  my 
father  made  them :  he  is  only  a  mechanic,  you  know." 

Some  of  the  ancient  historic  families  of  the  three  kingdoms  were 
represented  in  that  noviccship,  but  all  felt  that  moment,  and  ever 
after,  that  the  daughter  of  a  mechanic  surpassed  them  more  m  vir- 
tue than  they  surpassed  her  in  worldly  rank. 
Among  the  subjects  prohibited  at  recreation  were  : 

1.  Politics,  as  being  entirely  out  of  the  sphere  of  Religious.  Ia 
the  contests  so  frequent  in  Mother  McAuley's  time,  she  contented 
herself  with  having  prayers  offered  fur  the  restoration  or  preserva- 
tion of  peicc. 

2.  Every  tiling  calculated  in  the  slightest  degree  to  give  pain. 


f 

r 

200 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


3.  Remarks  springing  from  family  pride,  etc.  ^ 

She  never  made  any  prohibition  concerning  conversation  about 
poor  relations,  sensible  that  nature  is  not  inclined  to  boast  o.  hav- 
ing sprung  from  a  beggarman-of  having  friends  in  the  poorhouse 
-of  having  brothers  who,  for  want  of  means,  cannot  take  out  de- 
grees •  it  requires  grace  to  allude  to  these  things.    She  was  ever 
cautious  to  correct  the  slightest  defects  against  good-brcedmg 
knowing  that  such  defects  may  lead  to  breaches  of  chanty ;  and 
she  waa  of  opinion  that  a  code  of  etiquette  is  almost  more  neces- 
sary in  the  convent  than  in  the  world,  for  worldlings  can  cut 
acquaintances  who  do  not  please  them,  while  Religious,  who  cannot 
go  out  to  seek  their  society,  must  be  particularly  cautious  to  make 
those  with  whom  they  live  as  happy  as  possible,  especially  durmg 
the  short  interval  allowed  for  unbending  the  mind. 

We  could  say  more  on  this  subject,  but  we  have  said  enough  to 
Bhow  the  care  with  which  the  Foundress  watched  that  all,  even  the 
mirth  of  the  recreation  hour,  should  be  durected  to  God.  Grave 
or  gay  at  prayer  or  at  recreation,  in  the  street  or  in  the  cloister, 
Bhe  desired  that  tae  Religious  should  never  for  a  moment  forget 
their  vocation. 


"W^ 


^mm 


iJirJWi 


jation  about 
oast  of  hav- 
ic  poorhouse 
take  out  de- 
;he  was  ever 
ood-breeding, 
charity;  and 
t  more  ncces- 
ings  can  cut 
s,  who  canuot 
tious  to  make 
iccially  during 

laid  enough  to 
,t  all,  even  the 
God.  Grave 
n  the  cloister, 
moment  forget 


'■:»«?■ 


1 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Mother  JlcAuley's  views  on  education. — The  regulations  she  made.— CathoUo 
and  Kon-Calliolio  educationists. — Ancodoto. — Pestalozzi,  Bell,  Lancaster, 
Jaootot.— The  Kildore-strcot  sohools.— The  National  Board.— The  ChristiaD 
Brothorn. — Gerald  Grifflu's  grave. — Catholic  priests  inaugurators  of  gratuitous 
instruction. — Education  of  the  middle  classes. — Effect  the  example  of  our 
great  educationists  ought  to  liave  on  those  engaged  in  education. 

INSTRUCTING  the  ignorant  being  the  primary  end  of  the 
Order  of  Mercy,  the  Foundress  desired  ^at  nothing  should 
be  left  undone  to  train  the  young  Sisters  to  the  eflScient  discharge 
of  this  most  laborious  duty.  Slie  would  have  all  study  to  become 
acquainted  with  every  improvement  in  the  manner  and  method  of 
imparting  instruction.  Besides  a  thorough  English  education, 
which  she  considered  indispensable,  the  Sisters  were  obliged  to 
continue  studies  commenced  before  entering  Religion,  such  as 
music,  which  is  necessary  at  Mass,  Benediction,  and  Ceremonies  ; 
painting,  useful  in  many  ways  ;  and  foreign  languages,  so  necessary 
for  the  Sisters  who  visited  the  prisons  and  hospitals  of  seaport 
towns.  The  latter  was,  useful  in  another  respect;  "..o  dearth  of 
ascetical  works  in  English  made  it  very  desirable  that  the  Sisters 
should  be  able  to  translate,  partially  or  entirely,  some  of  the  beau- 
tiful monastic  writings  of  the  French,  Spanish,  and  Italian  authors. 
The  regulations  Mother  McAuley  made  for  the  schools  were 
full  of  wisdom.  We  have  heard  the  most  experienced  of  her  asso- 
ciates say  that  she  never  made  a  rule,  or  oflercd  a  suggestion,  or 
gave  a  direction,  which,  when  acted  on,  was  not  a  manifest  improve- 
ment. She  advised  the  Sisters  to  obviate  the  neccs-'ity  of  punish* 
mcnt  by  giving  the  little  people  plenty  of  light  occupation.  Cor- 
poral   punishment*  she  entirely  prohibited,  thinking  it  would  not 

•  This  rule  was  relaxed  only  in  one  instance- if  a  child  was  really  known  to 
lay  any  thing  immoral :  in  this  case  she  thought  some  slight  physioul  paiu 
ought  to  be  inflicted,  but  she  would  not  allow  the  Sisters  to  administer  it 

9* 


It  !J 


-r-^'. 


203 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


come  well  from  Sisters  of  Mercy ;  besides,  she  desired  that  the 
children  should  be  attracted,  not  repelled,  and  she  was  firmly  per- 
suaded that  the  Religious  who  knew  how  to  preside  in  the  school- 
room as  she  ought,  would  find  little  occasion  for  exercising  severity 
of  any  kind. 

Religious  enter  the  school  with  immense  advantages  over  any 
secular  teacher  whatever.  Their  Catholic  pupils  will  have  heard 
Religious  extolled  as  Saints  a  thousand  times,  and  there  are  few 
Catholic  faruilies  of  any  rank  who  have  not  contributed,  per- 
haps, theu"  most  amiable  and  best-beloved  member  to  the  lay  or 
choir  department  of  some  Religious  house.  Even  Protestants  who 
send  their  children  to  convent  schools,  prove  by  that  very  fact  that 
they  do  not  credit  the  wretched  libels  they  hear  even  from  the  pul- 
pit ;  and  their  children  as  well  as  themselves  feel  for  the  Religions 
habit  a  sort  of  instinctive  reverence,  for  which  the}  cannot  account. 
Perhaps  no  one  converses  for  the  first  time  with  a  Religious  with- 
out participating  in  the  same  seutiment.  But  among  most  Catho- 
lics, at  least,  to  ict  like  a  hero,  to  endure  like  a  martyr,  to  pray 
like  a  saint,  and  to  be  perfectly  impervious  to  the  assaults  of  pas- 
sions, is  held  to  be  the  normal  state  of  Religious.  Not  only  do 
they  regard  persons  specially  consecrated  to  God  as  being  above 
human  vices,  but  also  above  human  weaknesses  ;  they  look  on 
them  &s  impeccable,  and  uu.ionize  them  in  their  hearts  at  the  first 
glance.  Now  it  is  not  our  province  to  determine  whether  this  high 
repute  is  deserved.  Certain  it  is  that  our  predecessors  gained  it 
for  us — it  is  their  legacy — it  is  our  birthright  ;  we  get  it  with  the 
habit,  we  inspire  it  when  we  enter  for  the  first  time  the  school,  the 
parlor,  or  the  hospital.  Others  have  to  earn  a  good  reputation — 
wo  walk  into  school  with  it ;  our  very  dress  assures  the  children 


Tlio  delinquent  was,  as  we  may  pleasantly  say,  handed  over  to  the  » iciilar  power. 
One  of  the  more  ancient  wr>inen  of  the  Refuge  wiis  brought  in  to  give  her  a  slap 
or  two,  in  presence  of  the  Sister,  not  so  much  to  inflict  corporal  pain  as  to 
evince,  by  the  adoption  of  a  special  mode  of  punishment,  the  enormity  of  faults 
of  this  nature. 

Mother  McAuley  was  extremely  particular  obout  the  moral  education  of  the 
poor.  81)0  know  that  their  very  poverty  exposes  them  to  temptations  from  which 
the  rich  are  shluldod.  Tlie  restraints  of  society  may  keep  the  rich  in  subjeo- 
tioq,  but  virtue  i»  the  only  xpociflo  for  th«  poor. 


LIFE  OF  OATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


208 


ired  that  the 
as  firmly  per- 
inthe  fcchool- 
cising  severity 

ages  over  any 
ill  have  heard 
L  there  are  few 
ntributed,  per- 

to  the  lay  or 
'rotestants  who 
t  very  fact  that 
sn  from  the  pal- 
»r  the  Religious 
cannot  account. 

Religious  with- 
ng  most  Catho- 
martyr,  to  pray 
assaults  of  pas- 
3.    Not  only  do 

as  being  above 

;  they  look  on 
arts  at  the  first 
vhether  this  high 
lessors  gained  it 
3  get  it  with  the 
e  the  school,  the 
ood  reputation — 
ares  the  children 

to  tho  MOiilar  power. 

in  to  give  liar  a  slap 

corporal  pain  as  to 

no  enormity  of  faults 

oral  education  of  the 
iiptationB  from  which 
jp  tho  rich  in  subjeo- 


that  we  are  separated  totally  but  honorably  from  the  world,  that 
we  might  devote  ourselves  the  more  unreservedly  to  their  educa- 
tion, and  that  for  their  sakes  we  have  broken  nature's  dearest  ties, 
and  renounced  forever  the  sinless  charms  of  a  happy  home. 

Religious,  then,  begin  their  labors  with  a  high  reputation.  As 
the  old  Roman,  in  showing  respect  for  a  Consul,  said  that  he  there. 
by  reverenced  in  his  heart  all  who  ever  worthily  bore  the  consular 
dignity,  so,  when  the  Religious  presides  at  her  desk,  the  more 
thoughtful  of  her  pupils  will  regard  her  as  the  descendant  and  rep- 
resentative of  all  the  saints  who  have  ever  worn  the  Religious 
habit,  in  whose  footsteps  she  worthily  or  unworthily  stands.  Every 
Religious  gets  this  reputation  before  the  world  and  before  her 
pnpils,  but  does  every  Religious  keep  it  ?  Alas  I  it  is  far  more 
difScult  to  keep  it  than  to  get  it.  Yet  it  would  not  be  easy  to  ex- 
aggerate the  injury  Religion  sustains,  when,  through  the  fault  of 
its  members,  this  reputation  is  lessened  or  lost.  They  injure  not 
merely  themselves,  but  the  cause  they  have  vowed  to  advance,  and 
the  Order  whose  habit  they  are  privileged  to  wear  ;  and  though 
the  sin  may  belong  only  to  one,  the  penalties  must  be  borne  by 
thousands.  The  end  of  education  is  not  merely  to  bestow  on  chil- 
dren a  definite  amount  of  knowledge — that  is  the  least  part  of  it. 
Its  main  object  is  to  fit  children  for  earth  without  t/jifitting  them 
for  heaven — to  teach  them  to  become  in  after-life  "  instruments  to 
diffuse  happiness  around  them."  But  how  few  of  those  engaged  in 
the  cause  of  education  ever  give  due  consideration  to  the  many 
things,  present  and  future,  that  education  has  to  deal  with  I 

Stand  on  the  threshold  of  an  infant  school  and  look  at  the  shin- 
ing faces  of  its  fourscore  joyous  children  Happiness,  the  happi- 
ness of  innocence,  beams  on  their  fresh  countenances  ;  nor  will  yoa 
look  in  vain  among  their  cherub  forms  for  blooming  beauty  and 
perfect  symmetry.  Few  can  gaze  on  them  without  becoming  for 
the  moment  poets  or  philosophers.  And  still  fewer  can  look  in 
imagination  at  the  pictures  they  will  present  some  thirty  years 
hence,  without  heaving  a  sigh,  and  perhaps  thinking  that  those 
destined  to  pass  out  of  life  before  sin  contaminates  their  souls  or 
sorrow  crushes  their  hearts,  are,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  tho  htq)picst 
of  the  group. 


L-i 


'■••^m^- 


mtsmmis 


204 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


Yes,  there  is  in  the  destiny  of  every  one  of  them  an  amonnt  of 
mental  and  bodily  suffering  whicli,  did  it  not  come  by  part  and  par- 
cel, could  it  be  been  at  a  glance  by  her  to  whose  lot  it  wlil  fall, 
vould  suffice  to  shiver  to  atoms  the  strongest  nervous  system  &nd 
break  the  bravest  heart.  Every  woman  who  reaches  maturity  or 
old  age  has,  as  a  daughter,  to  lose  her  parents  ;  as  a  wife,  to  lose 
her  husband  or  part  from  him  by  death  ;  as  a  mother,  to  lose  her 
childrec  or  confide  them  to  strangers, — perhaps  to  w'>?k  for  their 
support,  and  for  their  sakcs  bear  the  frowns  of  the  w^rld  and  seek 
its  deceitful  smiles  :  add  to  all  this,  an  amount  of  ph'  sical  pain  the 
thought  of  which  might  well  make  many  a  strong  man  tremble, 
and  the  temptations  and  occasions  of  sin  which  are  inevitable. 
Only  Religion,  not  a  vague  Religion,  but  something  definite  which 
seizes  on  their  very  vitals,  which  custom,  from  infancy  upwards, 
has  made  a  necessity  as  it  were,  can  enable  children  to  meet  their 
future  lot  as  Christians.  All  historians  have  agreed  in  consigning 
Herod,  the  infamous  murderer  of  the  innocents,  to  the  gehenna  of 
history  ;  but  those  who  would  murder  the  souls  of  children,  by 
bringing  them  up  without  religion,  deserve  a  place  in  a  still  worse 
gehenna. 

In  discharging  the  great  duty  of  teaching.  Mother  McAuley 
used  to  sa}  that  Religious  should  labor  as  strenuously  as  if  their 
greatest  efforts  were  necessary  to  insure  any  degree  of  success,  yet 
with  an  abiding  consciousness  that  only  God  can  fructify  what  His 
servants  plant  and  water.  Religions  instruction,  of  course,  held 
the  first  place.  This  she  would  have  "  little,  but  constant."  Cat- 
echism was  daily  heard  in  class  ;  about  twenty  minutes  in  the 
morning  were  devoted  to  an  exposition  of  some  part  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine,  and  there  were  8|)ecial  iustractions,  retreats,  etc.,  at 
stated  periods,  as  preparation  for  the  sacrameBts.* 


*  It  is  curious  tliat  almost  every  tiling  of  real  merit  in  the  educational  workk 
of  non-Catholics  is  borrowed  from  Catholio  educationists,  especially  FSn^lon  ; 
or,  at  least,  was  an  old  story  among  CulhoHos  before  it  was  "  invented"  else- 
where. Some  difference  os  to  praotioal  application  exists,  however.  For  in- 
stance, a  Mr.  Abbot,  of  MassaohusettE,  in  his  modest  account  of  the  admirable 
means  he  adopted,  and  the  success  that  blessed  his  labors,  tolls  us  that  he  gave 
religious  instructions  daily,  but  always  upon  such  subjects  as  were  common 
ground  with  all  his  soholars,  and  thnt  they  were  in  the  habit  of  consulting  him 


,n  amonnt  of 
part  and  par- 
t  it  will  fall, 
18  system  &nd 
i  maturity  or 
I  wife,  to  lose 
sr,  to  lose  her 
'(,7k  for  their 
r  jrlu  and  seek 

sical  ptiiQ  t^i® 
man  tremble, 
ire  inevitable, 
definite  which 
incy  upwards, 
to  meet  their 

in  consigning 
the  gehenna  of 
of  children,  by 
n  a  still  worse 

ither  McAuley 
nsly  as  if  their 
of  success,  yet 
ictify  what  His 
of  course,  held 
instant."  Cat- 
minutes  in  the 
rt  of  the  Chris- 
etreats,  etc.,  at 


educational  work* 
apeciully  Ffindlon ; 

"  invented"  elso- 

liowover.    For  in- 

t  of  the  admirable 

ells  u»  that  he  gave 

as  were  common 

of  coumilting  him 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


The  Sister  who  presided  in  each  school  remained  there  from  ten 
till  three,  with  a  little  intermission  at  noon.  She  did  not  generally 
teach,  her  main  business  being  to  examine,  classify,  superintend, 
and  take  cognizance  of  any  misdemeanors,  etc.  Those  who  taught 
remained  from  ten  to  twelve  ;  general  instruction  and  recreation 
occupied  the  time  till  a  quarter  to  one,  when  the  Sisters  who  had 
been  -on  the  visitation  of  the  sick  in  the  forenoon  took  the  after- 
'noon  classes.  Arrangements  were  made  to  give  to  each  the  sub- 
jects for  which  she  had  most  taste  and  could  teach  most  success- 
fully. Those  who  presided  and  those  who  taught  were  required  to 
make  all  th  •  arrangements  out  of  school.  If  any  thing  seemed 
to  admit  of  improvement,  she  who  was  of  this  opinion  mentioned 

by  word  or  letter  on  difllctiltica  of  conscience,  Ac,  he  liaving  invited  them  to 
do  BO.  Should  the  admirable  effects  of  Mr.  Abbot's  spiritual  direction  be  all 
that  he  describes  in  case  of  all  his  male  and  female  pupils,  still  it  seems  to  ns 
that  he  ought  not  to  recommend  *'iis  office  as  something  which  it  would  be 
proper  for  all  persons  to  undertake.  It  might  liavo  occurred  to  him  that  all 
are  not  endowed  with  the  liigh  moral  worth  and  conspicuous  talents  which  se- 
cured him  such  distinguished  success  (according  to  himself)  in  this  difficult 
business.  The  Catholic  educationist,  equally  with  Mr.  Abbot,  recognizes  the 
necessity  of  giving  ohildreu  an  opportunity  to  unburden  their  oons^iencos,  en- 
lighten their  doubts,  &o.,  but  directs  thorn  when  and  how  to  recur  for  this  pur- 
pose, not  to  a  half-educated  teacher  who  is  hired  for  his  acquirements  in 
grammar  and  mathematics,  not  for  his  tlioology,  but  to  one  who  has  the  hu- 
man learning  and  the  divine  commission  necessary  for  undertaking  the  renpon- 
Hibility  of  directing  souls. 

A  Mr.  Pago  says  that  "  no  teacher  of  a  public  school  has  a  right  to  force  his 
own  peculiar  notions  of  theology  on  his  pupils,"  and  yet  holds,  that  "  the 
teacher  is  responsible  to  some  extent  for  their  religious  training  ;"  but  how  to 
give  religious  iustruetion  or  spiritual  direction  without  displaying  *'  our  pecu- 
liar notions  of  theology" — if  wo  have  any — is  more  than  we  can  comprehend  ; 
those  who  recurred  so  frequently  to  Mr,  Abbot  did  not  surely  expect  him  to  be 
the  exponent  of  any  one  else's  "  peculiar  notions"  on  the  subject.  Strange  it 
did  nut  occur  to  Mr.  Page,  that  their  pecuUaritiei  in  theology  and  every  thing 
else,  are  just  the  very  things  people  cannot  or  will  not  avoid  forcinff  on  othcm. 

Another  of  these  theorists  will  have  nothing  introduced  in  school  but  what 
the  pupils  like,  what  they  vote  for.  Ho  will  allow  them  to  take  up  studies  at 
^.leasure,  and  to  select  what  best  plooscs  them.  The  government  he  recom- 
mends is  hardly  a  limited  monarchy,  wliercas  those  who  know  young  people 
best,  seem  to  bo  of  opinion  that  aa  absolute  monarchy,  mildly  adminixterod, 
would  be  better,  and  that  the  rising  generation  are  but  too  apt  to  meddle  with 
the  province  of  the  parent  am.'  \caoher,  without  getting  a  special  invitation  to 

do  BO. 


206 


,LIFX  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULKT. 


the  matter  to  her  immediate  saperior,  or  to  the  Religious  in  charge, 
and  it  was  discussed  at  an  appointed  time  and  place.  Mother 
McAuley  would  not  give  a  direction  or  suggestion  in  the  hearing 
of  the  pupils.  She  made  linown  her  views  out  of  school,  and  often 
visited  the  schools  to  see  if  they  were  carried  out  fully.  For  a 
long  time  she  daily  taught  a  class  herself,  but  when  the  multiplicity 
of  her  duties  prevented  this,  she  was  a  frequent  visitor,  and  in  case 
of  the  onftvoidable  absence  of  a  Sister,  she  would  take  her  place. 
Thus  she  always  had  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  state  of  the 
schools,  and  was,  therefore,  able  to  make  the  most  suitable  arrange- 
ments. 

As  the  Lancasterian  or  monitorial  system  had,  to  some  extent, 
been  adopted,  several  Sifters  taught  in  the  same  room.  Mother 
McAuley  always  bore  in  mind  that  to  do  good  to  seculars,  even 
children,  Religious  must  '.ct  in  a  manner  calculated  to  edify.  But 
as  this  is  not  always  easy,  she  strove  to  obviate  its  difficulties  to 
some  extent  by  confining  their  mutual  intercourse  to  what  was  ab- 
solutely necessary.  Of  six  or  eight  Sisters  who  taught  some  five 
hundred  children  in  one  room,  only  the  Sister  who  presided  had 
permission  to  speak  to  them  ;  the  others  being  restricted  to  hear- 
ing the  recitations,  etc.  They  were  allowed,  however,  and  even 
desked,  to  make  any  inquiries  that  charity  might  surest,  such  as 
asking  how  the  sick  parent  of  some  child  was,  inquiring  whether  a 
child  who  had  lately  been  ill,  felt  well  enough  to  study,  etc.  But 
these  cannot  be  called  exceptions,  worthy  as  they  are  of  being  in- 
cluded among  the  lessons  by  which  children  learn  that  most  impor- 
tant of  all  virtues,  charity.  On  their  admission  to  the  schools,  the 
names,  ages,  and  residences  of  children  were  registered  ;  an  account 
of  daily  attendance  was  afterwards  kept,  and  the  books  containing 
these  items  were  exhibited  to  such  visitors  as  desired  to  inspect 
them.  A  register  of  first  communions,  first  confessions,  and  con- 
firmations was  also  kept.* 

The  slightest  imperfection  in  the  discharge  of  the  school  duties 
at  once  caught  her  ever-vigilant  eye.  She  thought  that  every 
word,  act,  and  almost  every  motion  coming  under  the  observation 

*  We  are  thus  copious  in  detailing  the  arrangements  of  the  FonndreM,  in 
the  hope  that  they  may  suggtst  many  useful  hints  to  the  Cntholio  teacher. 


hi 


ms  in  charge, 
ice.  Mother 
1  the  hearing 
lol,  and  often 
:ully.  For  a 
e  mnltiplicity 
>,  and  in  case 
ie  her  place, 
state  of  the 
able  arrange* 

some  extent, 
om.    Mother 
seculars,  even 
)  edify.    But 
difficulties  to 
what  was  al> 
;ht  some  five 
presided  had 
cted  to  hear* 
ver,  and  even 
;gest,  such  as 
ing  whether  a 
dy,  etc.    But 
of  being  in- 
,t  most  import 
e  schools,  the 
an  account 
ks  containing 
red  to  inspect 
ions,  and  con- 
school  duties 
ht  that  every 
le  observation 

le  Fouadrew,  in 
)lio  teacher. 


li 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


207 


of  children,  ought  to  be  most  carefully  regulated,  that  each  might 
be  able  to  say  to  her  class,  practically  at  least :  Be  ye  imitaiori 
of  me,  as  I  am  of  Christ.  She  would  have  the  Sisters  study  not 
merely  the  present  consequences  of  their  conduct  in  school,  but 
still  more  the  probable  future  consequences  ;  for,  after  all,  it  is  in 
the  wear  and  tear  of  after-life,  and  not  in  the  school-room,  that  we 
kam  whether  children  have  been  well  educated  or  not.  The  fol- 
lowing instance  will  show  the  immense  stress  laid  on  apparent  trifles 
when  they  had  reference  to  the  young. 

A  very  young  lady,  just  entered,  was  sent,  perhaps  to  amuse 
her,  to  the  infant  school  to  hear  the  little  ones  receive  a  "  gallery 
lesson."  The  Sister  who  gave  this  lesson  having  been  called 
away,  asked  the  postulanle  to  keep  order  till  her  return.  But 
young  as  the  "  infants"  were,  they  no  sooner  saw  themselves  under 
the  control  of  a  stranger,  than  they  commenced  an  uproar,  which 
she  attempted  to  quell  by  some  terrible  threat.  The  novelty  of 
being  threatened  at  all,  stilled  the  commotion,  and  the  young  tyro 
was  not  a  little  pleased  at  the  success  of  her  first  essay  in  the  art 
of  school  governing.  Soon,  however,  the  babes  began  to  whisper, 
and  as  the  lady  had  neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  execute  her 
threat,  she  contented  herself  with  hinting  what  she  might  be  likely 
to  do  if  she  only  had  her  spectacles  to  enable  her  to  see  where  the 
noise  originated.  At  this  juncture  she  was  happily  relieved  of  all 
further  responsibility  by  the  entrance  of  the  Religious  in  charge. 

At  recreation  that  evening  she  gave  an  amusing  account  of  the 
events  of  her  "  little  brief  authority."  Some  time  after,  she  was 
informed  that,  short  as  her  administration  had  been,  she  had  com- 
mitted two  serious  faults  in  it :  the  first,  in  making  a  threat  which 
she  had  not  power  to  execute  ;  the  second,  in  feigning  near-sighted- 
ness. It  was  represented  to  her  that  these  little  ones  might  here- 
after, in  looking  back  on  the  scenes  of  that  day,  easily  see  that 
she  had  menaced  without  an  intention  to  execute,  and  their  future 
experience  would  teach  them  that,  as  her  sight  was  very  good,  she 
never  wore  glasses. 

Mother  McAuley  fully  subscribed  to  this  wise  rule  of  a  groat 
Christian  educationist : 

"  Never  deceive  children,  even  in  the  way  of  jest,  for  they  will 


'■*»L^aij!gsgM;atei^^ 


208 


LIFE  OF  CATHEKINE   MCAULET 


naturally  infer,  that  if  their  master  is  capable  of  misleading  them 
in  trifling  things,  he  may  do  it  in  more  important  matters,  and  eyen 
in  the  matter  of  their  religious  instruction."* 

In  Mother  McAuley's  lifetime  many  improvements  had  been  in- 
troduced in  the  methods  of  teaching,  among  which  was  the  Pesta- 
lozzian  system,  which  is  very  beautiful  in  theory,  but  not  quite  no 
practicable  as  was  once  supposed.  Henri  Pestalozzl,  like  many 
inventors,  was  somewhat  of  a  visionary.  The  tale  be  wrote  to  il- 
lustrate his  plans  obtained  immense  circulation,  and  wrought  a 
revolution  in  many  schools.  Lord  Brougham,  who  visited  hia 
school  at  Yverdam  in  1812,  found  the  pupils  quite  expert,  esp«- 
cially  nt  mathematics,  though  they  were  taught  entirely  without  the 
aid  of  books.  Some  of  his  maxims  are  worthy  of  being  recorded, 
for  instance  this — "  When  you  enter  a  school  as  teacher,  see  first 
what  the  children  know,  and  how  they  know  it ;"  or  this—"  Every 
thing  depends  on  reducing  knowledge  to  its  simplest  elements,  and 
proceeding  gradually."  Pestalozzi's  writings  are  well  worthy  of 
the  perusal  of  the  educator.f 

Other  educationists  of  less  note  sprang  up.  Joseph  Lancaster 
and  Dr.  Bell  disputed  the  honor  of  having  invented  the  monitorial 
system.  Nano  Nagle  mentioned  this  system  in  her  rulej  before 
these  gentlemen  were  born.  Lancaster  had  a  maxim  that  savored 
somewhat  of  steam  :  "  Give  me  twenty  pupils  to-day,  and  I  will 
give  you  twenty  teachers  to-morrow."§  Then  there  was  Jacotot, 
who  maintained  that  "  every  thing  is  in  every  person,"  if  there  is 
only  some  one  to  develop  it  ;  but  if  he  managed  to  have  all  his 
pupils  attain  the  same  proficiency  in  the  same  period,  he  accom- 
plished this  only  by  keeping  back  the  talented  ones,  and  giving 
extra  assistance  to  the  dull  ones.  His  favorite  maxim  was  :  "  Re- 
peat incessantly" — Bipetez  sans  case. 

The  oral  system  of  instruction  became,  for  a  while,  very  popular. 


•  Venerable  John  B.  De  la  Salle,  Founder  of  the  Christian  Brothers. 

t  If  Peataloizi't  -works  are  not  published  in  English,  they  would  be  well  wor- 
thy of  translation. 

t  In  the  chapter  on  "  the  Schools." 

§  Dr.  O'SulUvan,  of  Dublin,  shows  that  the  Monitorial  System  may  be 
traced  back  to  the  days  of  Lyourgfus. 


J 


"HT 


leading  them 
bers,  and  even 

had  been  in- 
aa  the  Pesta- 

not  quite  so 
i\,  like  many 
J  wrote  to  il- 
id  wrought  a 
10  visited  his 

expert,  espfl- 
ly  without  the 
:ing  recorded, 
icher,  see  first 
this — "  Every 
elements,  and 
yell  worthy  of 

eph  Lancaster 
the  monitorial 
r  rulej  before 
1  that  savored 


ay, 


and  I  will 


was  Jacotot, 
n,"  if  there  is 
have  all  his 
od,  he  accom- 
les,  and  giving 
m  was  :  "  Re- 

,  very  popular. 

Jrotherg. 
uld  be  well  wor- 

SyBtem  may  be 


) 


LirE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


909 


Its  advocates  entirely  eschewed  that  saying  of  Solomon  :  "  He 
that  getteth  knowledge  getteth  labor."  The  pupils  of  this  glorioos 
day  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  listen.  The  wonders  of  astronomy 
and  chemistry  were  detailed  with  perfect  accuracy  even  by  children 
nndor  seven  1  Knowledge  was  to  be  gained  henceforth  without 
toil,  nay,  without  effort,  and  the  idea  of  gathering  wisdom  by  the 
midnight  oil,  however  poetic,  was  regarded  aj  quite  unprofitable 
and  unnecessary.  But  experience  soon  showed  what  common  sense 
'^icrht  have  suggested,  that  without  diligent  and  persevering  study 
no  one  can  become  more  than  a  superficial,  or  at  best  an  inaccurate 
scholar  ;  and  the  inventors  of  the  lecture  system  were  not,  after 
all,  wiser  than  Solomon,  as  Mother  McAuley  soon  perceived. 

The  Charter  schools  in  Ireland,  which  had  so  grand  a  begin- 
ning, made  a  very  disgraceful  exit,  having  been  suppressed  by  the 
very  power  that  established  them — not,  however,  till  they  had  be- 
come a  perfect  nuisance.  They  were  replaced  by  the  Kildare- 
street  establishment,  which  inaugurated  an  excellent  system  of 
conveying  secular  knowledge.  Thither  Miss  McAuley  repaired 
every  day  while  her  own  schools  were  in  course  of  erection,  and 
nothing  could  exceed  her  anxiety  to  learn  every  thing  connected 
with  school  discipline.  It  was  not  at  first  easy  for  her  to  gain  ad- 
mission, but  she  generally  contrived  to  be  accompanied  by  a  Prot- 
estant of  rank,  whose  orthodoxy  was  above  suspicion,  and  she 
drove  there,  elegantly  dressed,  attended  by  servants,  and  with  every 
exterior  mark  which  could  show  the  woman  of  the  world.  For  a 
while  the  ofBcials  imagined  she  was  a  Protestant ;  but  before  they 
discovered  the  contrary  they  were  so  taken  with  her  gentle,  win- 
ning manners,  that  they  would  not  prohibit  her  admission. 

She  soon  perceived  that  numbers  of  the  pupils  were  Catholics, 
and,  whatever  the  merits  of  the  school  were,  it  was  no  place  for 
them.  The  "  Authorized  Version"  was  daily  expounded  by  Prot- 
estant teachers,  and  ministsrs  of  every  denomination  but  one  gave 
instruction  at  stated  periods.  Catholics  left  it  without  any  love 
for  the  practices  forced  upon  them,  but  yet  with  a  sort  of  contempt 
for  their  own  religion.  She  therefore  wrote  down  the  name  and 
address  of  every  Catholic  child  in  the  institution,  and  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1821,  previous  to  the  opening  of  her  own  school,  called  on 


aiiJ^Ei^s". 


■W**»'P?UT»WFMW/w#iR!«j'/„--;    . 


■:«; 


r^r 


«■ 


210 


LIFE  O'"  CATHERINE  M<'AULET. 


the  parents  of  each,  and  informed  them  that  in  future  there  wonld 
be  no  necessity  for  them  to  subject  their  little  on"-s  to  sectarian 
influence.  Indeed,  one  of  her  reasons  for  building  her  schools  in 
Baggot-street  was  the  fact  that  children  were  very  numerous  in 
that  district,  an(l  totally  unprovided  vrith  means  of  obtaining  Cath- 
olic education.  A  large  proportion  of  the  Kildare-street  pnpils 
were  from  th"?  lanes  and  alleys  in  the  neighborhood  of  Baggot-street. 

The  National  Board  of  Education  was  established  in  1832, 
chiefly  through  the  exertions  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyse  and  O'Connell. 
The  majority  of  the  Irish  Bishops  soon  patronized  it,  and  Dr. 
Murray  and  Dr.  Whateley  sat  at  the  same  Board  as  Commis- 
sioncrs  of  Education.  Almost  every  Catholic  school  in  Ireland 
became  connected  with  it.  Mother  McAnley  was  one  of  the  first 
to  perceive  the  advantages  of  such  a  connection.  In  a  letter  she 
says  :  "  We  will  place  our  schools  under  the  Board,  because  our 
children  will  improve  much  more  when  expecting  the  examination." 
She  did  not  place  undue  importance  on  secular  knowledge,  but  she 
felt  that  parf^nts  would  have  a  plausible  pretext  for  removing  their 
children  from  Catholic  schools,  if  these  were  inferior,  in  a  literary 
point  of  view,  to  other  similar  establiehments. 

If  Religious  are  not  efficient  ioachers,  theii'  schools  must  degen- 
erate,  their  scholars  will  Fcek  education  elsewhere,  and,  for  a  liLtle 
human  learning,  barter,  perhaps,  their  eternal  interests.  Hence, 
the  anxiety  of  the  Foundress  that  the  Sisters  should  improve  as- 
siduously the  talents  God  had  given  them.  Teaching  she  regarded 
as  the  chief  function  of  the  Order,  and  teaching  requires  continual 
preparation.  To  visit  the  sick  with  advantage,  kindness  is  more 
necessary  than  learning ;  to  conduct  the  House  of  Mercy  efficiently, 
orudence,  and  a  knowledge  of  household  matters,  are  more  essen- 
tial than  literary  ability ;  but  to  teach  well,  kindness  and  prudence, 
though  indispensable,  will  not  suffice  without  the  solid  foundation  of 
a  good  education,  and  a  judicious  method  of  imparting  knowledge. 

The  educational  department  in  Baggot-street  has,  from  the  first, 
borne  a  high  literary  character.  Open  to  the  inspection  of  the 
government,*  the  gentlemen  appointed  to  examine  the  pupilc,  and 

*  Soe  Keports  made  by  .aspeotors  of  3obook  co  the  CoromiBsionera  of  £du- 
Mtion. 


1 


e  there  would 
;8  to  sectarian 
her  schools  in 
y  nuinerons  in 
btaining  Cath- 
•e-street  pnpils 
Baggot-street. 
shed  in  1832, 
md  O'Connell. 
d  it,  and  Dr. 
d  as  Commis- 
ool  in  Ireland 
»ne  of  the  first 
In  a  letter  she 
d,  because  our 
!  examination." 
vledge,  but  she 
removing  their 
or,  in  a  literary 

9ls  must  degen- 
and,  for  a  little 
urests.    Hence, 
lid  improve  as- 
ig  she  regarded 
quires  continual 
ndness  is  more 
!ercy  eflSciectly, 
ire  more  cssen- 
s  and  prudence, 
id  foundation  of 
tiiig  kuojrledge. 
B,  from  the  first, 
ispcction  of  the 
the  pupik,  waA 

n'lBBionen  of  Edii- 


i 


PK-" 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULEY. 


211 


report  officially  on  theur  moral  and  intellectual  progress,  have, 
without  a  single  exception,  borne  flacteiing  testimony  to  their  good 
conduct  and  general  proficiency.  Speaking  of  Religious  as  teachers, 
James  W.  Kavanagh,  Esq.,  late  Head  Inspector  of  Schools  in  Ire- 
land, says  :  "  In  them,  convents  have  a  staff  of  efficient  teacher^, 
such  as  we  cannot  command  for  our  other  schools."  This  is  only 
as  it  'should  be.  Schools  conducted  by  Religious,  who  profess  to 
teach  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  eternal  recompense  promised 
to  those  who  instruct  many  unto  justice,  ought  not  to  be  inferior, 
in  any  respect  whatever,  to  those  conducted  by  seculars. 

The  experiment  of  mixed  educ  ition  has,  however,  almost  proved 
a  failure  in  Ireland.  In  the  cases  iu  which  it  was  administered  by 
Religious  it  could  not  do  any  barm,  but  in  other  instances  it  might 
easily  prove  a  dangerous  experiment.  So  long  as  the  Church  was 
satisfied.  Mother  McAuley  was  content  that  the  poor-schools  ot 
the  Order  in  Ireland  should  remain  in  connection  with  the  Board  ; 
but  she  hoped  the  day  was  not  far  distant  when  a  separate  grant 
would  be  assigned  for  Catholic  children.  The  Godless  Colleges 
may  be  regarded  as  a  further  development  of  a  pernicious  system, 
which  insists  that  pupils  will  observe  silence  about  their  religion — 
the  very  thing  they  ought  to  glory  in — and  gather  their  theology 
from  a  set  of  books  made  to  suit  every  variation  of  creed,*  from 
the  Catholic  to  the  Unitarian,  inclusively. 

•  How  differently  Catholio  and  non-Catliolio  writers  regard  the  question  of 
religious  instruction,  tlieir  respective  writings  best  show.  Compare  tlie  rules 
laid  down  by  Venerable  Jolin  B.  De  la  Sdl'fl,  or  the  Uraulines,  eto.,  with  the 
timid  suggestions  offered  by  Mr,  Abl>ot,  for  instance.  The  latter  gives,  if  we 
remember  rightly,  two  speciiiions  of  his  mode  of  imparting  religious  instruc- 
tion :  in  one  of  them  he  directs  the  pnpils  to  turn  over  the  pages  of  their  Bibles 
and  compare  the  relative  lengths  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles ;  he  then  explains  why 
IMrtwt  is  placed  l^st,  Jiomaru  first,  eto.  It  is  unnecessary  to  remark  that  the 
information  he  gives  on  this  subject  would  not  be  considered  orthodox  by 
Catholics.  In  his  other  specimen  of  a  "  common  ground"  instruction,  ho  tolls 
his  juvenile  audience,  that  in  making  a  vacation  tour,  he  met  at  an  inn,  in  a 
remote  district,  a  woman  dying  of  consumption,  who  seemed  happy,  because, 
as  lie  gravely  informs  them,  she  was  a  Christian  t  And  he  suggests  to  his  fel- 
low-toaohers,  that  should  any  thing  so  wonderful  '!omo  into  their  exporience, 
they  should,  in  relating  it,  abstain  fVom  all  comment,  leaving  their  scholars  to 
draw  their  own  conolusions.  What,  then  I  Is  a  Christian  woman  a  rara  atit 
la  New  England  I    Or  do  women  in  general  cease  to  be  Christians  when  at- 


mm 


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212 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


So  far  as  this  system  regards  secular  instrnction,  it  is,  -when 
properly  carried  out,  one  of  the  best  known.  The  school-books 
are  progressive,  without  beiug  uonseusical,  and  were  nci  only 
adopted  in  the  schools  for  which  they  were  written,  but  even 
found  their  way  into  the  royal  school-rooms  in  which  the  unmeroos 
princes  and  princesses  of  England  received  their  education.  Bat, 
whatever  may  be  their  literary  merits,  the  term  Naiional  applied 
to  them  ia  a  misnomer.'*'  Their  whole  drift  and  tone  are  anti-Irisb, 
as  well  as  an ti- Catholic.  The  series  scarcely  contains  an  allusion 
to  a  Catholic  Saint.  The  sketch  of  Irish  history  does  not  even 
contain  the  names  of  Sarsficld.  Q rattan,  O'Connell,  Shiel,  etc. 
The  Biography  of  Poets  ignores  Moore,  the  delightful  "  poet  of 
all  circles,"  and  the  pure  and  elevated  Griffin,  wlwse  works  have 
become  as  "  household  words"  in  his  country. 

The  educational  works  of  the  Christian  Brothersf  are  thoroughly 

tackod  by  coDfiuinption  ?    Wo  liope  not.    But  wlieu  tlio  gcntloman'B  published 
epecinions  aro  Bucli,  wliat  innst  liU  ordinary  religious  discourses  be  like  I 

Noii-Catliolica  labor  in  the  cause  of  oducotlon  with  a  zciil  worthy  of  better 
results,  but  the  most  essential  element  of  right  education  is  wanting  to  their 
plans  ;  and  when  wo  see  any  really  good  ideas  in  their  writings,  they  seem  to 
us  almost  like  the  stray  beams  of  truth  which  found  their  «<ray  iuto  the  mythol- 
ogies of  other  days. 

*  In  1858,  J.  W.  Kavnnagh,  Ei<q.,  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  enthuslastio 
promoters  of  education  in  Ireland,  discovered  some  cases  of  prosclytism  in 
certain  schools,  which  he  imniodiutoly  reported  to  the  Hoard.  Instead  of 
thanking  the  honest  Head  Inspector,  the  Board  gave  him  to  understand,  that 
if  he  desired  to  preserve  it*  good  opinion,  he  must  not  notice  so  trivial  a  mat- 
ter as  prosclytism ;  upon  which  Mr.  Kavanagh,  seeing  he  could  not  retain  his 
honorable  post  with  a  good  conscience,  immediately  resigned.  He  afterwards 
wrote  a  series  of  powerful  letters  on  the  evils  of  "  Mixed  Education"  as  carried 
on  in  Ireland,  using  the  Oorh  Examintr,*  the  leading  journal  of  the  south,  as  a 
medium  of  communicating  his  sentiments  to  the  public.  After  this  txpoii,  the 
patronage  of  the  Bishops  and  clergy  was  withdrawn  from  the  National  Schools, 
and  strenuous  ciforts  were  made,  and  are  still  being  made,  to  procure  a  sepft- 
rate  grnnt  for  Catholic  bduoatlon,  as  is  given  in  most  countries  in  Europe. 

t  Perhaps  a  still  finer  series  is  that  entitled  "  The  Metropolitan,"  by  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Holy  Cross  Order.  Most  school-book  writers  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
that  In  the  systems  of  education  now  in  use  in  English-speaking  countries, 
children  are  obliged  to  repent  their  roading-lossons  so  oHon  that  thoy  ounnot 
(ivold  commlttipg  them  to  memory.    Now,  a  child  should  never  be  allowec'  to 

*  Editor,  Thomn*  Croible,  Esq. ;  Tropriotor,  John  F.  Maguire,  Esq.,  M.  P. 


X  —I 


LIFE  OF  CATHERIKG  MCAULET. 


ai8 


,  it  is,  ■when 
school-books 
ere  nc'«  oaly 
Bn,  bat  eren 
the  namerons 
cation.    Bat, 
lionoi  applied 
are  anti-Iriab, 
IS  an  allusion 
loea  not  even 
ill,  Shiel,  etc. 
tful  "poet  of 
36  works  LaTO 

ire  thoroughly 

man's  pnbl'iBhed 
Bes  be  like  t 
1  worthy  of  better 
wanting  to  th«»lr 
ngR,  tlipy  ^eem  to 
into  the  niythol- 

moBt  enthnsioBtio 
of  proBolytism  in 
ard.     Instead  of 
understand,  that 
so  trivial  »  nint- 
ild  not  roUiu  hi* 
lie  afterward* 
ication"  as  carried 
of  tlio  south,  OS  a 
tor  lliis  txpotif  the 
National  Schools, 
to  procure  a  sepft- 
a  in  Europe. 
Utan,"  i>y  a  mem- 
sight  of  tl\e  faot 
leaking  countries, 
n  that  thoy  oonnot 
iver  be  allowec"  to 

lire,  Esq.,  M.  P. 


J 


religions  and  national  in  character,  in  wl  ich  respect  they  contrast 
favorably  with  the  National  school-books.  The  schools  conducted 
by  that  devoted  body  of  men  arc,  perhaps,  unsurpassed  in  their 
kind.  Those  of  Richmond-street,  Dublin,  and  the  North  Monas- 
tery, Cork,  are  well  worthy  of  the  notice  of  the  educationist.  In 
the  latter,  Gerald  Griffin  was  employed,  as  he  pleasantly  says  in  a 
letter/  to  teach  the  little  boys  of  Fair  Hill  "  that  o  x  spells  oxV 
Few  literary  tourists  pass  through  "  the  beautiful  citic,"  without 
visiting  the  grave  of  the  author  of  "  The  Collegians."* 

The  evils  resulting  from  the  absence  of  a  Catholic  tone  in  the 
school-book  were  counteracted,  to  a  great  extent,  by  establishing 
libraries,  and  thus  supplying  the  children  with  Catholic  works. 
Secular  instruction  being  subjeci,  to  many  changes.  Mother  McAu- 
ley  wrote  no  general  rules  on  it,  satisfiad  that  the  Sisters  would 
adopt  improvements  as  they  were  introduced  elsewhercj-    With 

memorize  any  thing  not  worth  remembering ;  and  yet,  how  can  this  be  avoided, 
if  the  very  text-books  abound  in  nonsense,  vulgarities,  and,  not  unfVequently, 
Bometliing  worse  ?  Having  looked  carefully  through  the  Metropolitan  Koaders, 
we  failed  to  observe  any  thing  but  what  is  useful  and  interesting,  and,  there- 
fore, worth  remembering.  We  know  that  some  maintain  that  it  is  not  possible 
to  write  l>ooks  at  onco  useful  and  interesting  to  the  narrow  capacities  of  small 
children.  Were  this  the  case,  bettor  let  them  remain  without  books  until  they 
are  old  enough  to  appreciate  what  Is  good  and  useful.  But  it  is  not  so.  Canon 
Bchmid  conibinos  utility  and  pleasure  In  his  books  fur  ohildren  :  Mrs.  J.  Sad- 
lier,  to  whom  Catholic  popular  literature  is  so  deeply  Indebted,  does  the  same, 
though  in  a  different  style.  And  though  Faber's  "  Talcs  of  the  Angels"  may  be 
understood  by  children  under  eight  years  of  age,  we  should  not  care  to  see  any 
one  too  old  to  derive  pleasure  and  proflt  from  Its  perusal. 

*  In  the  cemetery  of  the  North  Monastery,  Cork.  A  small  stone,  on  which  Is 
engraved  the  name,  "  Brother  Qerald  Joseph  Griffln,"  marks  the  spot. 

t  While  enjoying  on  one  occasion  the  hospitality  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  we  perceived  that  their  pupils  wore  required,  before  graduating,  to  read 
a  course  Bolected  from  the  best  authors;  and,  in  a  few  casual  conversations  with 
their  pupils,  we  were  surprised  at  the  correct  taste  and  judgment  they  evinced 
when  d.jcussing  the  beauties  of  the  English  classics.  Girls  who  have  left 
school  are  not  always  to  be  blamed  for  wasting  hours  over  the  brainless,  sense- 
less reading  which  destroys  all  taste  for  true  literature ;  this  sin  ought  rather 
be  laid  at  the  door  of  their  parents  and  teachers  who  neglected  to  form  and  cul- 
tivate in  them  a  relish  for  solid  and  elegant  literature,  an  ncquiiintance  with 
which  is  BO  essential  to  'iho  upper  and  n.iddlo  classes.  But  as  the  system  of 
education  Is  the  same  in  all  the  Houses  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  the  pupils  of  these 
admirably  couduoted  institutions  will  b«  highly  censurable  if,  having  left  kohool. 


?^P{fflmP|||PPPlPi^B|^^:' '  ■'^'^Bil^liBMffTBfBjfflCT 


mm 


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2U 


LIFE  OF  CATHSBINE  MGAULEY^ 


regard  to  religious  instruction,  which  is  always  the  same  in  mati;6r 
and  importance,  she  is  very  definite.  Half  an  hour  at  least  was 
daily  devoted  to  it ;  each  child  was  required  to  master  the  dicceean 
Catechism  before  studying  a  higher  one;  the  principal  texts  of 
Scripture  quoted  in  proof  of  each  article  of  faith,  and  the  prophe- 
cies relating  to  the  most  striking  events  of  oar  Lord's  life,  ?ere 
committed  to  memory.  The  daily  oral  instruction  lasted  about 
twenty  minutes  in  each  school,  the  subject  being  supplied  by  the 
four  divisions  of  the  Christian  Joctriae,  taken  in  order ;  the  course 
would  last  about  a  year.  On  the  approach  of  a  festival,  the  chil- 
dren were  instructed  on  the  mystery,  or  the  Saint  to  be  commem- 
orated. 

Mother  McAulcy  laid  immense  stress  on  the  instruction  of  chil- 
dren, rightly  judging  th<it  a  vast  amount  of  crime  is  the  result  of 
ignorance — not  ignorance  of  mineralogy  and  geometry,  however, 
but  ignorance  of  the  law  of  God  and  the  duties  of  Christianity. 
Hence,  she  desired  that  the  children  should  receive  a  thoroughly 
Christian  education* — an  education  of  which  religion  is  not  a  mere 

they  indulge  in  useless  or  pernioioas  reading,  after  having  their  tastes  so  finely 
developed  and  cultivated  by  the  gifted  Ladies  who  so  abl^  superintend  their 
education,  and  who  know  so  well  how  to  fit  their  scholars  for  earth  without 
unfitting  them  for  henven,  that  we  are  not  surprised  to  learn  that,  in  Europe, 
princesses  are  sometimes  numbered  among  their  scholars. 

*  Compare  the  writings  of  Catholic  and  non-Catholiu  educationists,  and  no- 
where, perhaps,  will  you  find  the  difference  between  the  Cntholio  and  nil  other 
religions  more  strongly  marked.  The  Catholic  educationist  not  only  gives  re- 
ligion the  firflt  r>laco,  but  brings  it  into  every  thing,  making  children  literally 
eat,  drink,  ;  iy,  study,  "  all  for  the  glory  of  God  and  in  the  name  of  our  Lord 
Jesus."  The  non-Catholic  educationist,  if  he  have  any  definitt  creed,  which  ia 
■eldom  the  case,  is  apparently  ashamed  of  it ;  and  if  he  happen  to  advert  to  it, 
does  so  in  a  stealthy  manner,  as  though  it  were  something  bad  or  dangerous, 
and  therefore  to  be  approached  with  great  caution.  The  Catholic  educationist 
not  only  ideulifios  every  thing  elae  with  his  religion,  bnt  undertakes  his  office 
solely  because  of  religion,  and  is  witling  to  teach  all  other  branches,  chiefly  be- 
cause the  faith  of  children  might  be  endangered  by  study  in  profane  literature 
under  such  as  belong  not  to  the  household  of  the  faith.  The  non-Catholic  may 
speak  of  morality,  but  does  not  pretend  to  give  any  distinct  notions  of  religion. 
The  Catholic,  while  admitting  temporal  prosperity  to  be  a  blessing  from  Ood, 
and  therefore  lawfully  to  be  desired,  ever  keeps  before  the  eyes  of  his  pupil* 
that  eternal  prosperity  which  Is  within  the  reach  of  all,  and  which  is,  for  all,  th« 
one  thing  necessary.    The  non-Catholic  regards  poverty  as  a  curse,  and  tempo- 


•MSM 


Hin 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


215 


le  in  matter 
it  least  was 
the  diccegan 
pal  texts  of 
the  prophe- 
i's  life,  were 
lasted  about 
pplied  by  the 
• ;  the  course 
ival,  the  chil- 
be  commem- 

iction  of  chil- 
the  result  of 

ttry,  however, 

f  Christianity, 
a  thoroughly 

I  is  not  a  mere 

lir  tostes  80  finely 

superintend  tUelr 

for  earth  without 

that,  in  Europe, 

ationistB,  and  no- 
olio  and  all  other 
jot  only  gives  re- 
ciiildren  literally 
lamo  of  our  Lord 
iU  creed,  which  U 
len  to  advert  to  It, 
bad  or  dangoroui, 
.hollo  eduoatloniet 
dertakes  hiu  office 
inchea,  ohlcfty  be- 
profane  literature 
non-Catholic  may 
jotiona  of  religion. 
jleBsing  from  God» 
eyes  of  hie  pupilt 
■hioh  i«,  for  all,  tht 
curae,  and  lempo- 


omament,  but  the  basis,  the  sustenance,  the  essence,  the  insepanble 
accompaniment.  In  her  opinion,  an  indefinite  religion  wa  'jut 
little  use,  even  with  regard  to  this  world.  Faith  must  precede 
reason ;  dogmns  must  be  given  as  dogmas,  not  as  conjectures ;  the 
lives  of  the  instructresses  must  be  practical  illustrations  of  the 
instructions ;  every  thmg  bright,  and  good,  and  beautiful  must  be 
called  jnto  requisition  to  impress  the  susceptible  mind  of  the  child 
with  love  of  virtue  ;  to  cast  arouid  her  holy  and  gentle  influences 
to  which  it  will  be  a  joy  in  after-years  to  revert,  the  very  remem- 
brance of  which  will  ward  oS  temptation,  and  often  make  "  the 
fiery  darts  of  the  m^ost  wicked  one"  fall  harmless  in  theur  course. 
With  these  accompanunents,  intellectual  culture  may  be  as  high 
as  possible  ;  without  them,  it  is  like  steam,  capable  of  doing  im- 
mense good  so  far  as  its  power  is  concernod,  but  likely  to  do  tre- 
mendous harm  when  it  is  not  properly  controlled.  To  polish  the 
intellect  and  neglect  the  hear^.  is  like  putting  a  fine  sword  in  t^^^e 
hands  of  a  man  who  has"  not  learned  how  to  use  it ;  or,  rather,  in 
the  hands  of  a  madman,  who,  for  the  novelty  or  pleasure  of  using 
it,  will  care  little  whether  he  uses  it  to  inflict  injury  on  himself  and 
others,  or  not.* 

lal  succesB  as  the  greatest  of  blessings,  and  ever  seeka  to  spur  on  his  pnpUa 
with  delusive  hopes  of  attaining  greatness,  which  tlie  few  only  can  achieve,  for 
the  nir\jorsty  in  every  country  must  bo  "  hewers  of  vood  and  drawers  of  water," 
laborers  who  niuNt  literally  "  earn  their  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow  I" 

*  "  A.  Potter,  D.  D.,"  who  will  not  publish  without  the  approbation  of  the 
Superintendent  of  Common  Schools,  (rather  humiliating  for  a  D.  Z).,)  in  a  work 
intitled  «'  The  School,"  tells  us  that  "  more  has  been  written  on  the  subject  of 
education  within  the  last  fifty  years  than  during  all  previous  time;"  also,  that 
*'  formerly,  when  writers  treated  of  education,  they  had  reference  only  to  '  our 
uoblo,  gentle  youth,'  as  Milton  called  them,"  and  that  "  this  was  the  case  with 
Milton  himself."  All  the  writings  on  the  subject  could  not  have  come  under 
the  Doctor's  observation,  else  he  had  told  ua  that  schools  lupported  by  tin  StaU 
were  established  in  Rome  before  they  wore  heard  of  in  Scotland  or  New  Eng- 
land ;  that  the  illustrious  Saint  Joseph  Culasanzio,  a  Catholic  priest,  inaugurated, 
in  1697,  the  noble  system  ot  gratuitout  inttruation,  which  his  disciples  carry  on 
to  this  day  ;  that  a  little  later,  another  Catholic  priest,  John  Baptiste  de  la  Salle, 
founded  a  Congregation  for  the  same  object,  whose  pupils  now  number  nearly 
600,000;  but,  of  course,  these  men  were  behind  the  enlightenment  of  the  pres- 
ent age.  ColasanctiuR  calls  his  schools  "  pious"—"  SouoUpie  ;"  Ue  la  Salle  calls 
hia  "  Christian"— "iiofc*  Chritunne."  Had  both  foHnd-»d  "  godless  schools," 
perhaps  Dr.  Potter  had  hoard  of  them ;  but,  sveu  admlttiog  his  sWosping  as- 


J- 


1 


piSSS« 


■jijiiiiiiiiiiiirmr"""^"" 


216 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


Mr.  Kay,  in  his  work  on  the  "  Edacatioa  of  the  Poor  in  Eng- 
land," says  of  the  educational  system  of  the  Christian  Schools  : — 

"  The  Brothers  consider  that  if  they  neglect  to  develop  t/ie  in- 
teUect  of  their  pupils,  they  cannot  advance  their  religious  edu- 
cation  satisfactorily ;  they  consequently  spare  no  pains  to  attain 
the  former  development,  in  order  that  the  latter,  which  is  the  great 
end  of  their  teaching  and  of  all  instruction  whatsoever,  may  not  be 
retarded." 

sertion  to  bo  true,  the  present  state  of  morals  would  suggest  to  some,  that  there 
may  have  been  more  written  than  done  in  the  cause  of  right  education. 

"  It  is  alleged,"  gays  the  same  writer,  "  that  notwithstanding  the  progress  of 
education,  crime  nnd  immorality  increase.  If  the  present  be  compared  with 
any  distant  era  of  liistory,  even  the  most  brilliant,  it  will  be  found  that  the  re- 
verse is  true  (?).  In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  for  instance,  there  were  in  England 
from  three  to  four  hundred  executions  every  year  for  capital  crimes."  To  make 
this  comparison  hold,  it  seems  to  us  that  he  ought  to  define  what  constituted 
«apital  crime  in  tlie  days  of  Elizabeth.  At  all  events,  its  value  is  very  much 
lessened  in  our  eyes  when  we  consider  that,  if  these  States  were  still  under 
England,  and  that  the  laws  of  the  good  queen  could  bo  enforced,  the  majority 
of  Americans  should  become  either  martyrs  or  renegades  to  their  present  belief. 
When  wo  consider  that  denial  of  cho  queen's  supremacy  in  spirituals  was  a 
capital  crime ;  that  sheep-stealing  was  in  the  same  category ;  tha;  hundreds 
suffered  solely  for  conseiencn'  sake ;  that  Elizabeth  scrupled  not  to  murder  her 
guest  and  cousin  ;  that,  whatever  her  talents  may  have  been,  ibusto  is  no  woman 
in  history  that  con  at  all  opproaoh  her  in  cruelty,  we  shall  not  be  surprised  that 
the  number  of  executions  in  her  reign  is  very  great,  especially  as  it  lasted  forty- 
four  years. 

Again,  he  gives  some  terrible  statistics  of  Spain,  a  Catholic  country,  with 
quotations  from  tourists.  People  are  pretty  well  agreed  as  to  the  amount  of  re- 
liance to  be  placed  on  the  statements  of  tourists.  Ho  might,  however,  have 
given  tlie  following  passage,  which  shows  that  every  Catholio  country  is  not 
quite  so  bad  as  Spain : — 

"  There  nre  more  murders  committed  iu  Euglund  and  Ireland  in  the  coarse 
of  n  few  montl)s,  than  throughout  the  whole  of  Italy  in  as  many  years."— jCotty 
Morgan't  "  Italy." 

Dr.  Potter  ignores  the  improvements  made  in  educational  affairs  in  Catholio 
countries,  else  ho  had  told  us  bow  Bome  came  to  have  "  the  highest  educational 
atandard,  ont  in  Hx,  that  any  State  can  reasonably  hope  to  attain." 

We  hazard  the  opinion  that  in  no  Catholio  country  in  the  world,  in  present 
or  former  times,  would  the  Doctor  find  any  thing  approaching  the  state  of  things 
lie  describes  under  the  heading,  JVetent  Statt  qf  tht  Gommon  School*,  as  existing 
In  the  State  of  New  York.  In  hastily  glancing  through  his  work,  we  oould  not 
forbear  exclaiming,  '■  \yhen  the  fk'ienda  of  the  system  apeak  tboa,  what  will 
its  enemies  say  i" 


-..U 


Poor  in  Eng^ 
1  Schools : — 
velop  tJie  irtr 
'eligions  edur 
nins  to  attain 
;h  is  the  great 
er,  may  not  be 


I  some,  that  there 
lucntion. 

ig  the  progress  of 
10  compared  with 
'ound  lliat  the  re- 
3  were  in  England 
rimes."    To  make 
e  what  constituted 
iluo  is  very  much 
g  were  still  under 
)rcod,  the  majority 
licir  present  belief, 
n  spirituals  was  a 
ry;  thn'v  hundreds 
not  to  murder  her 
,  there  is  no  woman 
)t  be  surprised  that 
y  as  it  lasted  forty- 

holio  country,  with 
0  the  amount  of  re- 
ight,  however,  have 
olio  country  is  not 

reland  in  the  course 
nany  years."— i«^y 

il  affsira  in  Catholio 
highest  educational 
attain." 

he  world,  in  present 
ig  the  state  of  thing* 
n  ScHmU,  as  existing 
i  work,  wo  could  not 
peak  thus,  what  wUl 


i 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


This  was  exactly  the  view  Mother  McAnley  took  of  this  sub- 
ject ;  secular  ipstruction  she  regarded  as  a  means,  not  as  an  end  ; 
but  as  a  means  idsential  to  the  ultimate  object  she  had  in  view, 
which  was  the  salration  of  the  souls  of  the  children.  Hence,  she 
rev]nu%d  the  Sisters  to  have  a  full  knowledge  of  what  they  taught ; 
and  to  refresh  their  memories,  half  an  hour  was  daily  devoted  to 
what  she  called  "  prepai'ing  for  school."  The  very  text-books 
written  by  non-Catholics  contain  many  a  statement  which  pnpils 
should  be  taught  to  take  cum  grano  salts  ;  and  how  can  teachers 
enable  them  to  do  this,  if  they  themselves  have  to  depend  on  the 
class-books  alone  for  theur  information  ? 

Between  the  days  of  Nano  Nagle  and  those  of  Catherine  McAn- 
ley, a  great  change  had  taken  place  in  the  educational  aspect  of 
the  country ;  the  prospectus  of  the  former  may  provoke  a  smile 
from  the  educationist  of  the  present  day ;  the  whole  course  of 
secular  instruction  comprising  only,  "  Beading,  Writing,  Needle- 
work,  and  Spinning."  She  did  not  attempt  to  teach  algebra  and 
conic  sections  to  children  destined  to  spend  their  lives  in  servitude 
or  indigence  ;  conchology  and  geology  have  no  place  in  her  pro- 
gramme— even  arithmetic  is  not  named — girls  who  will  never  have 
a  larger  capital  than  the  week's  wages  of  a  laborer,  can  do  all  the 
counting  they  require  on  their  ten  digits.  As  for  music,  a  few 
hymns  to  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows,  which  might  comfort  them  in  the 
troubles  of  after-life,  were  all  they  learned  in  that  line.  It  was, 
indeed,  enough  for  a  people  just  emerging  from  a  second  barba- 
rism ;  for  girls  whose  fathers  and  brothers  had  a  weekly  custom  of 
wrestling  for  physical  pre-eminence  in  the  suburbs  of  Cork.* 

In  looking  over  the  numerous  conventual  establishments  in  Ire- 
land, the  keen  penetration  of  the  Foundress  saw  that  they  were 
all  too  exclusive.  There  were  Ursuline  Schools  for  the  rich,  and 
Presentation  Schools  for  the  poor ;  but  no  provision  was  made  for 
the  middle  classes.  This  was  also  the  case  with  male  institutions. 
There  were  Jesuits  for  the  upper  classes,  and  Christian  Schools  for 
the  lower,  while  boys  of  a  middle  grade,  who  could  not  afford  to 
go  to  the  first,  and  whom  an  honest  pride  would  prevent  going  to 

*  Very  Kev.  Dominic  Murphy,  Dean  of  St.  Finbarr's,  Cork,  in  his  "  Meoroir 
of  N.  Nagle,"  quotes  the  above  edifying  fuot  from  the  (hrk  RtrntmbraMir. 

10 


Blitirii.,- 


218 


LIFE  OP  CATHEEINE  MCAULEY. 


the  second,  were  unprovided  with  Beligioos  teachers.  To  supply 
this  want,  she  desired  that  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  sliould  open  day- 
schools  for  the  midd.'  j  classes,  in  places  where  this  necessity  existed, 
provided  their  schools  conld  not  interfere  with  the  prosperity  of 
other  establishments  ;  and  she  opened  them  herself,  as  we  shall 
subsequently  see,  in  Carlow,  Cork,  Galway,  etc. 

Perhaps  no  one  person  ever  did  so  much  for  the  cause  of  educa-. 
tion  in  the  lower  and  middle  classes  as  did  Mother  McAuley  ;  but 
then  she  seemed  an  educationist  by  nature,  born,  not  made,  as  was 
said  of  the  poets  of  old.  But  no  one  could  fail  to  become  an  ex- 
cellent teacher,  however  dull  her  natural  intellect  might  be,  who 
constantly  labored  and  prayed  so  earnestly  to  become  one.  She 
did  not  ask  Divine  Providence  to  work  miracles  for  her,  she  put 
hei*  owu  hand  to  the  work,  she  applied  to  it  as  if  the  salvation  of 
the  whole  world  depended  on  her  exertions,  and  then  calmly  left 
the  issue  to  Him.  And  He  blessed  iier  labor  beyond  her  own  most 
sanguine  expectations.  She  lived  to  see  her  Order  conferring  a 
Christian  education  on  thousands  of  the  poor  ;  and  to-day,  if  she 
looks  down  from  heaven  on  her  scattered  children,  she  will  find 
their  pnpils  to  amount  to  nearly  two  hundred  thousand — incluiiing 
those  of  industrial,  infant,  and  literary  schools — scattered  through 
the  British  islands,  North  and  South  America,  Australia,  New . 
Zealand,  &c. 

The  men  and  women  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  the  pro- 
motion of  education,  the  most  benevolent  of  all  projects,  involving 
as  it  does  the  temporal  and  eternal  well-being  of  millions,  are  not 
the  property,  though  they  may  be  the  glory,  of  distinct  nations. 
Whether  they  toiled  under  the  blue  sky  of  Italy,  like  Angela  di 
Merici,  or  among  the  aborigines  of  Canada,  like  Mary  of  the  In- 
carnation ;  whether  they  resign  the  insignia  of  a  noble  house,  like 
Giuseppe  Calasanzio,  or  lay  aside  the  trowel,  like  the  royal- 
hearted,  rough-looking  mason,  Tata  Giovanni ;  whether  they  for- 
sake friends  and  people,  like  Eliza  Anne  Seton,  or  the  highest  lit- 
erary position,  like  the  gifted,  amiable  Gerald  GrifiBn  ;  whether  they 
spend  their  lives  rescuing  beggars  from  ignorance,  like  Edmund 
Bice,  or  begin  their  work  against  terrific  obstacles  in  a  country 
which  had  just  dethroned  God  and  deified  reason,  like  the  vener- 


•8.  To  supply 
»uld  open  clay- 
;cc88ity  existed, 
e  prosperity  of 
;lf,  as  we  shall 

:ause  of  educa-. .. 
McAuley ;  but 
t  made,  as  was 
become  an  ez- 
;  might  be,  who 
;ome  one.  She 
For  her,  she  put 
he  salrat/ioD  of 
;hen  calmly  left 
id  her  own  most 
ier  conferring  a 
i  to-day,  if  she 
en,  she  will  find 
sand — including 
attered  through 
Australia,  New . 

yes  to  the  pro- 
ojects,  involving 
millions,  are  not 
iistinct  nations. 
,  like  Angela  di 
Mary  of  the  In- 
loble  house,  like 

ike  the  royal- 
hether  they  for- 

the  highest  lit- 

;  whether  they 
:e,  like  Edmund 
es  in  a  country 

like  the  vencr* 


t 


" 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


219 


ated  Foundress  of  the  Society  of  the  Sacred  Heart ; — they  are 
tmly  cosmopolitan,  they  belong  to  the  human  race,  they  are  the 
real  philanthropists,  they  are  the  true  philosophers,  they  are  the 
very  chivalry  of  Christian  teachers.  All  who  follow  in  their  wake 
must  catch  up  a  little  of  their  enthusiasm.  And  if,  in  ga^ng  on 
the  spiritualized  features  of  Angela  of  B.cscia,  as  the  painter  has 
transmitted  them  to  us,  or  the  mild  bine  eye  of  Catherine  McAnley, 
Or  iVs  genial  countenance  of  Mary  Anne  Aikeuhead,  or  the  sedate 
and  pleasing  face  of  Eliza  Anne  Seton,  we  sigh  to  think  that  we 
had  not  the  good  fortune  to  be  pnpils  of  those  who  were  gifted  and 
saintly  in  so  high  e  degree,  we  may  stUl  be  grateful  to  be  among 
their  disciples,  a.id  their  L'.es  will  ever  remind  us,  "that  we  can 
make  our  lives  sublime." 

Let  us  strive  to  draw  onr  inspiration  from  these  grand  n.  jdels, 
these  glorious  imitatorB  of  the  Divine  Teacher  ;  and  in  the  hour 
o'  weariness  and  depression,  when  effort  seems  useless  and  hope  de- 
lusive, let  us  not  forget  that  onr  saintly  predecessors  in  the  great 
work  of  Christian  education  passed  through  many  a  similar  ordeal, 
and  yet  achieved  brilliant  success.  And  if  onr  best  efforts  accom- 
plish bat  little  towards  eradicating  the  bad  habits  of  our  pupils, 
and  replacing  them  by  good  ones,  do  we  not  know  that  we  labor 
for  a  grateful  Master,  who  recompenses,  not  the  snccess  with  which 
He  blesses  our  endeavors,  but  the  zeal  and  loving  perseverance  with 
which  we  shall  have  toiled  to  increase  His  kingdom  in  heaven 
by  propagating  the  knowledge  of  Him  on  earth  ? 


>«%3. 


fm^ 


CHAPTER  XXI.    . 

New  trials.— Death  of  Sister  Aloysia  O'Grady  and  Sister  M.  Elizabetli  Ilarley. 
— Besignation  of  the  Foundress.— Superaatural  joy  at  the  death  of  a  member, 
always  choraoteristio  of  Religious  Orders. 

A  FEW  days  after  this  Reception,  Mother  McAuIey  lost  a  prom- 
ising  novice,  whose  friends,  for  some  reason  now  unknown,  in- 
sisted on  her  entering  the  novitiate  of  George's  Hill.  It  was  thought 
that  they  took  offence  at  not  being  invited  to  the  Reception,  but 
this  could  scarcely  be,  for  it  was  strictly  private,*  in  consequence 
of  the  illness  of  Sister  Aloysia,  whose  death  was  honrly  expected. 
Though  Miss  Carroll  was  anxious  to  remain,  the  Foundress  thought 
it  most  prudent  to  restore  her  to  her  parents,  and  thus  prevent  a 
storm  injurious  la  the  rising  Institute.  Miss  Carroll  was  not  des- 
tined, however,  to  promote  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  the 
poor  in  any  other  Order,  for,  after  entering  the  Presentation  Con- 
vent, in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  her  Mends,  she  soon  returned 
to  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  with  whom  she  happily  persevered,  her 
friends  making  no  further  opposition  to  the  manifest  will  of  God. 
Shortly  after  Sister  Anna  Carroll's  departure,  Miss  Catherine 
Byrne,  the  daughter  of  Mother  McAuley's  early  friend,  and  her  as- 
sociate since  182*7,  manifested  some  unsteadiness  of  purpose,  and 
soon  left  to  enter  a  Dominican  convent,  in  a  manner  and  under 
circumstances  peculiarly  painful  to  the  Foundress.  As  this  lady  is 
still  living,  1866,  we  shall  enter  into  no  particulars  of  her  departure. 
On  the  8th  of  February,  1832,  Sister  Aloysia  O'Grady  died  the 
death  of  the  just.  Among  the  virtues  of  this  young  Sister,  charity 
to  the  poor  was  the  most  conspicuous.  Her  life  in  the  Institute 
bad  been  so  perfect,  that  her  companions  never  saw  any  thing  in 

*  So  little  were  the  Sisters  prepared  for  visitors  on  that  ocoasion,  that  they 
did  not  even  assume  fashionable  dress,  as  is  oustomary  at  Beceptions.  Some 
years  after,  a  postulant  asked  one  of  the  "  ilrst  seven"  whut  they  had  worn  at 
the  first  clothing.  "  We  wore  cherry-color  dresses,  hlaek  cherry,  my  dear," 
Was  the  reply.    They  were  received  in  their  postulants'  dresses. 


Elizabeth  Ilarley. 
leatb  of  A  member. 


iley  lost  a  prom- 
)W  unknown,  in- 

It  was  thought 
i  Reception,  but 
*  in  consequence 
lourlj  expected, 
undress  thought 
1  thus  prevent  a 
)11  was  not  des- 
the  good  of  the 
■escntation  Con- 
le  soon  returned 
peraerered,  her 
5st  will  of  God. 
Miss  Catherine 
lend,  and  her  as* 
of  purpose,  and 
nner  and  under 

As  this  lady  is 
>f  her  departure. 
'Grady  died  the 
g  Sister,  charity 
in  the  Institute 
iw  any  thing  in 

oooasion,  that  they 
Beoeptions.  Soma 
t  they  had  worn  at 
cherry,  my  dear," 

BseB. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


muJULUam 


221 


her  but  what  was  edifying.  She  consoled  the  indigent  with  utmost 
kindness  ;  their  corporeal  wants  scarcely  less  than  their  spiritual 
necessities  enlisted  her  sympathy,  and  she  never  felt  more  happy 
than  when  serving  Jesus  Christ  in  His  suffering  members.  The 
smoky  lanes,  dingy  alleys,  and  close  garrets  of  a  great  city  were 
more  attractive  to  her  than  its  parks  and  ball-rooms.  The  fatigue 
induced  by  her  immense  exertions  for  the  poor,  from  her  entrance 
in  1829,  proved  too  much  for  her  delicate  frame,  and  as  there  was 
no  one  to  moderate  her  labors  during  Mother  McAuley's  absence 
in  George's  Hill,  she  soon  succumbed,  consumption  set  iu,  and  in 
August,  1831,  physicians  despaired  of  her  recovery. 

The  Foundress,  while  at  a  distance,  was  overwhelmed  with  grief ; 
she  had  just  lost  the  seraphic  Sister  Caroline.  One  wound  was 
scarce  closed  when  another  was  opened.  She  had,  however,  the 
consolation  of  bestowing  her  tender,  unceasing  care  on  this  dying 
saint.  Death  was  about  to  leave  a  blank  in  her  little  community, 
and  give  it  another  advocate  before  God.  Consoled  by  the  pres- 
ence of  her  beloved  Mother  and  Sisters,  fortified  for  the  momentous 
journey  from  time  to  eternity  by  the  adorable  Viaticum,  reassured 
by  the  last  unction,  which  cleansed  her  soul  from  the  most  trivial 
imiierfections.  Sister  Aloysia  O'Grady  calmly  breathed  her  last ; 
and  no  sooner  was  she  laid  in  the  vault  of  the  Carmelites,  than  it 
became  painfully  evident  that  Sister  M.  Elizabeth  Harley  was 
destined  soon  to  follow  her. 

Tb-:  Foundress  hoped  that  this  excellent  Religions  would  prove 
a  valuable  auxiliary  in  consolidating  the  yonng  Institute,  but  God 
willed  that  she  shoald  aid  it  as  an  advocate  in  heaven.  Whatever 
inconveniences  Sister  M.  Elizabeth  suffered  from  incipient  consump- 
tion, she  bore  them  in  silence,  and  would  have  continued  to  perform 
her  accustomed  duties  till  her  strength  completely  failed,  had  not 
her  altered  appearance  created  alarm.  Every  thing  the  most  de- 
voted affection  could  suggest  was  done  for  the  dear  invalid,  but 
she  was  already  beyond  the  reach  of  medical  skill.  Since  her  re- 
turn from  George's  Hill  she  had  been  assiduous  in  assisting  the 
dying  Sister  Aloysia,  and  had  frequently  thanked  God  for  the 
graces  bestowed  on  that  holy  soul,  whose  fervor  the  acute  pains 
of  a  slow  coucumption  did  not  in  the  least  diminish.    After  the 


■s4,^*;ss»4H*""A'V''Vi*srtrj-. 


222 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  Mt'AULET. 


death  of  this  Sist«r,  her  affectionate  nnree  remarked  to  e 
novice  : 

"  I  have  often  thonght  it  a  blessing  to  die  of  a  lingering  disease, 
but  now,  if  such  were  God's  will,  I  shoald  prefer  my  last  illness  to 
be  short." 

God  granted  her  desire.  She  was  at  Mass  and  Commanion 
with  the  commnnity  on  Easter  Sunday,  thongh  she  died  the  fol- 
lowing Wednesday.  On  Tuesday,  the  Foundress  noticing  that  she 
was  trying  to  make  her  accustomed  spiritual  exercises,  thongh  un- 
able to  rise,  said  to  her : 

"  My  darling,  don't  say  any  long  prayers  ;  just  raise  your  heart 
to  God,  and  think  of  Him.    That  will  be  enough  for  yon." 

"  What  proyers  shall  I  say,  dear  Mother  ?"  asked  the  Sister. 

"  Oh,  any  little  aspirations  will  do,  my  child,"  returned  the 
Foundress.  "  Suppose  you  say,  '  Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph,  assist 
me  !' " 

Such  was  the  obedience  of  Sister  M.  Elizabeth,  that  some  hours 
later,  on  entering  the  infirmary.  Mother  McAuley  found  her  faintly 
murmuring,  "  Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph,"  &c.  ;  nor  would  she  use 
any  other  aspiration  without  express  permission.  Before  her  death, 
she  suddenly  grew  better,  and  her  sisters,  delighted  to  perceive  a 
favorable  change  in  one  whose  life  was  so  precious  to  them,  came 
to  congratulate  her.  Fearing  lest  they  should  fatigue  her,  Mother 
McAuley  sent  them  away,  and  said  to  the  invalid  : 

"  My  child,  close  your  eyes  now,  and  sleep  ;  you  must  be  weary." 
The  Sister  smiled  archly,  and  said  : 

"  Now,  Reverend  Mother,  remember  you  told  me  to  sleep  ;"  bat 
she  "  spoke  of  the  sleep  of  death." 

Mother  McAuley  remained  in  the  Infirmary,  but  kept  perfectly 
quiet.  After  an  hour  or  so  she  stealthily  approached  the  bed  :  a 
look  assured  her  that  Elizabeth  Harley  had  slept  the  sleep  that 
knows  no  waking  ;  thongh  the  smile,  induced,  no  doubt,  by  the  sao> 
cess  of  her  innocent  stratagem  to  obtain  permission  to  die,  still 
rested  on  her  wasted  lips.  The  Sisters,  who  had  not  the  consola- 
tion of  uniting  in  prayers  for  the  dying,  repaired  to  the  choir  to 
chant  the  office  for  tho  dead,  and  many  a  tear  fell,  and  many  a 
voice  trembled  with  emotion  during  the  solemn  chantmg  of  the 


■■-■mM.Mwiw>iii.iajaiip  WV9K  v-i^ 


UFK  OF  CATHERIKK  IfCAULET. 


jK)8 


marked   to   r. 

igering  disease, 
7  last  illness  to 

ad  Commanion 
e  died  the  fol- 
oticing  that  she 
ses,  though  un- 

aise  yonr  heart 
)r  yon." 
d  the  Sister. 
"  returned  the 
1  Joseph,  assist 

hat  some  hours 
>und  her  faintly 

would  she  use 
efore  her  death, 
I  to  pereeire  a 

to  them,  came 
;ne  her,  Mother 

nust  be  weary." 

I  to  sleep  ;"  but 

kept  perfectly 
ted  the  bed  :  a 

the  sleep  that 
ubt,  by  the  sue 
sion  to  die,  still 
lot  the  consola- 
;o  the  choir  to 
11,  and  many  a 
shanting  of  the 


consoling  and  beautiful  liequiem  cBterman  dona  ei  Domine, 
Few  would  have  thought  that  she  Mho  headed  the  funeral  proces- 
sion was  the  most  grieved  of  all,  so  bravely  did  she  sustain  her 
cross,  and  so  unselfishly  did  she  devote  herself  to  the  task  of  com- 
forting others.  It  being  Easter  time,  she  repeate(i  in  the  refectory, 
in  tones  of  exultation'  the  Paschal  grace  :  Hcec  dies  quern  fecit, 
&c^  This  is  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ;  let  us  rejoice  and  be 
glad.  She  reminded  them  that  the  trial  came  from  Him  whom  we 
should  not  only  obey,  but  love  with  all  our  hearts,  and  insisted 
that,  in  obedience  to  the  Church,  they  should  all  "  rejoice  and  be 
glad." 

Indeed,  supernatural  joy  at  the  death  of  a  member  has  been 
always  characteristic  of  Religious  congregations.  In  some,  there 
is  a  beautiful  custom  of  singing  a  Te  Deum  in  thanksgiving  when 
one  of  their  number  is  translated  from  the  miseries  of  this  life  to 
the  glories  of  the  other.  St.  Chrysostom  tella  us  that  the  Religious 
of  his  time  received  the  news  of  approaching  dissolution  with 
gratitude  ;  that  hymns  and  canticles,  not  wailings  or  dirges,  were 
heard  at  their  funerals ;  and  that  when  any  of  them  departed  this 
life,  the  others  were  never  allowed  to  say  that  such  a  one  was 
dead,  but  only  perfected,  consummated.  When  a  Carmelite  has 
received  the  last  sacraments,  she  is  immediately  congratulated  on 
her  approachmg  happmess  by  the  rest  of  the  community.  It  is 
remarkable  that  in  recording  the  demise  of  any  of  her  spiritual 
children.  Mother  McAuley  ndver  uses  the  word  death.    She  records 

it  thus  :  "  Our  dear  Sister is  no  longer  an  inhabitant  of  this 

passing  world,"  "  has  had,  we  hope,  a  triumphant  entrance  into 
heaven,"  "  has  quitted  this  miserable  life,"  &c. 

Nine  years  after  Sister  M.  Elizabeth's  "  departure  for  heaven," 
the  Foundress  noticed  a  young  lady  just  entered  the  Carlow  Con- 
vent of  Mercy,  as  bearing  a  remarkable  personal  resemblance  to 
her  departed  child.  "  I  trui?t,  dear  Reverend  Mother,"  said  the 
postulant,  "  that  I  shall  resemble  her  in  virtue  as  well  as  in  coun- 
tenance." 

The  Foundress  turned  her  mild  blue  eyes  on  the  ardent  young 
sister,  and  said,  with  a  smile  : 

"  Your  case  is  not  by  any  means  hopeless,  my  child,"  but  her 


fi^%\ 


, itC;WillM>ilW»«W!««W!*'''l-''u»|il.i.»»l|illili.iJ  . 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


224 


tears  flowed  nnbidden  at  the  remembrance  of  her  departed  com- 
panion, and  she  turned  aside  to  conceal  her  emotion. 

In  concluding  this  chapter,  we  shall  relate  a  little  circumstance 
which  deeply  pained  the  Foundress  the  day  of  Sister  M.  Elizabeth's 
death.  While  attending  her.  Mother  M<iluley  was  frequently 
called  to  the  parlor  to  confer  with  some  charitable  ladies  who  had 
kindly  offered  to  preside  at  a  bazaar,  to  be  held  for  the  sick  poor, 
during  Easter  Week.  On  the  25th  of  April,  a  lady,  belonging  to 
that  large  class  which  is  more  liberal  of  criticisms  than  of  any 
thing  else,  called,  and  delivered  a  pompons,  if  not  elegant,  dis- 
course, on  "the  absurdities  of  Miss  McAuley,"  who  listened 
hnmbly  and  without  reply,  and  did  not  even  try  t'>  put  a  stop  to 
the  unpleasant  scene,  by  informing  her  severe  censor  that  a  dear 
Sister  was  at  that  moment  dying  in  the  house.  God  rewarded  her 
patience,  for  before  the  lady  had  been  much  more  than  an  hour  speak- 
ing, she  suddenly  ceased ;  and,  touched  by  the  patience  and  hu- 
mility of  the  Foundress,  and  saddened,  perhaps,  by  the  tear  that 
glistened  in  her  tender  eye,  she  apologized  for  her  rudeness,  and  oa 
rising  to  take  leave,  left  fifteen  pounds  for  the  poor. 


■:i--    -.'■\ 


:---^t^l 


wMfl. 


•--■A 


departed  com* 


le  circumstance 
r  M.  Elizabeth's 
was  frequently 
ladies  who  had 
r  the  sick  poor, 
y,  belonging  to 
IS  than  of  any 
)t  elegant,  dis- 
'  who  listened 
put  a  stop  to 
or  that  a  dear 
d  rewarded  her 
1  an  hour  spcak- 
tience  and  ha- 
T  the  tear  that 
ideness,  and  oa 


'(t-i'l  %'^'- 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  cholera  in  1S82.— Zeol  of  the  Catholic  Clergy.— Excitement  of  the  people.— 
Mother  MoAuIey  takes  charge  of  the  Cholera  Hospital,  Townscnd-street.— 
The  garrulous  nurse.— Extract  from  Dean  Gaffney'g  Memoir  of  the  Foundress. 

AT  the  time  of  Sister  M.  Elizabeth's  death,  April,  1832,  the 
cholera  had  just  made  its  appearance  in  Cork.    In  a  few 
weeks  it  was  omnipresent  in  Ireland. 

Those  who  remember  the  first  visit  of  the  Asiatic  cholera  may 
well  shudder  at  the  terrific  recollections  it  awakens.    Its  victims 
were  counted  by  thousands,  whole  families  were  daily  swept  away 
with  fearful  suddenness.     Rich  and  poor,  learned  and  ignorant, 
young  and  old,  were  hurried  to  a  common  grave,  almost  as  soon  as 
life  left  them,  if  not  sooner.    Against  this  deadly  epidemic,  youth 
was  no  security,  riches  no  guarantee,  beauty  no  protection.    "Via 
sainted  an  acquaintance  in  the  morning;  you  met  his  funeral  in 
the  evening.    You  transacted  business  with  a  friend  now,  in  a  few 
hours  you  heard  of  his  interment.     A  neighbor  called  to  have  a 
friendly  chat;  he  takes  lea\e,  and  behold,  he  has  scarcely  reached 
your  threshold,  when  his  blackening  face,  writhing  in  paroxysms  of 
agony,  gives  you  the  horrible  intelligence  that  the  plague  has 
seized  him.    A  poor  man  looks  with  pride  on  his  beautiful  child 
to-day,  to-morrow  he  lays  a  little  corpse  on  the  hideous  cholera 
cart,  and  soon  the  frightful  contortions  of  his  stalwart  frame  prove 
that  he  in  iff  deadly  grapple  with  the  fierce  pestilence.     As  this 
dismal  disease  spread,  the  minds  of  some  became  so  hardened  that 
compassion  for  the  wretched  victims  gave  place  to  un  instiuct  for 
self-preservation,  which  tempted  children  to  aborjon  the  couch  of 
dying  parents,  husbands  to  fly  from  plague-stricken  wives,  and 
mothers  to  shudder  as  they  bent  over  the  cradlos  of  their  sickening 
babes  I 
No  sooner  bad  the  plague  appeared,  than  the  Archbishop  prf^ 


J 


'^.--^^int^mtttmif 


226  LIFE  OP  CATHEBINE  M^'AULEY. 

sented  himself  at  the  Convent,  on  behalf  of  his  suffering  flock. 
The  Sisters  knelt  to  receive  his  blessing,  and  then  rose  up  and 
made  the  Cholera  Hospital  their  home.  No  words  can  describe 
the  zeal  of  the  Foundress.  Ever  at  the  side  of  the  dying,  she 
seemed  "  like  an  angel  'mid  the  vapors  of  death,"*  whispering  words 
of  consolation  to  many  who  had  previously  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. She  would  allow  no  one  to  be  buried  till  she  had  assured 
herself  by  personal  inspection  that  life  was  really  extinct,  nor 
would  she  allow  the  nurses  to  cover  the  faces  of  those  supposed  to 
be  dead,  till  a  stated  time  elapsed.  These  were  necessary  precau- 
tions, which  probably  saved  thousands  from  a  fate  more  dreadful 
than  even  death  by  cholera.  For  in  such  a  violent  disease,  ex- 
haustion, produced  by  intense  suffering,  might  occasion  a  tempo- 
rary cessation  of  respiration,  and  give  the  appearance  of  death, 
which,  however,  can  occur  only  when  "  some  organ,  absolutely  es- 
sential to  existence,  is  irreparably  destroyed."  She  was  very 
severe  with  nurses  who  L-eglected  the  sick,  or  seemed  in  too  great 
a  hurry  to  get  rid  of  the  dead ;  nor  did  she  spare  some  physicians, 
who,  undismayed  by  the  horrors  of  the  dreadful  crisis,  thought 
only  of  the  honor  of  discovering  a  specific  against  the  pestilence, 
and  who,  in  their  ardor  for  experimenting,  seemed  to  forget  that 
their  patients  were  human  beings. 

Brandy,  laudanum,  and  heating  applications  were  the  ordinary 
remedies,  and  the  tired,  sleepy  nurses  sumetimes  evinced  a  pro- 
pensity to  solace  themselves  with  the  first ;  but  they  soon  per- 
ceived they  could  not  be  guilty  of  the  least  intemperance  with  im- 
punity. For  a  while,  the  deaths  averaged  six  hundred  a  day,  and 
many  of  the  patients  had  to  be  instructed  in  the  first  rudiments  of 
Christianity.  It  was  sometimes  di£Qcult  to  rouse  them  from  the 
stupor  or  lethargy  which  followed  run  'tit  cramps  ;  but  the  Foun- 
dress and  her  associates  were  Uxc^S,  iSi-^Me,  they  determined  to 
save  the  souls,  if  not  the  lives  vf  :  jiak,  and  no  sooner  had  they 
instructed  a  patient  than  the  sacrami^iu-;  vere  administered.  Rev. 
Mr.  Carroll  never  left  the  hospital  till  tbo  last  vestiges  of  the  epi- 
demic disappeared ;  and  all  the  Catholic  clergy  vied  with  each 
other  in  assisting  the  »ick. 
~  *  G«r«ld  Uriffio. 


-_■ 


iiiim  iiiiOTiiWii»,-.in>imi;i|-j-|ffl;,ig7^ 


•}'»mgjs<»M'-m0m"  *ii  »*«»»—«■»  i  ■^'  n>  ■ 


LIFE  O?  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


227 


offering  flodc 
1  rose  np  and 
i  can  aescfibe 
tbo  dying,  she 
Ispering  words 
d  to  be  com- 
le  had  assured 
y  extinct,  nor 
ise  supposed  to 
cessary  precaa- 
I  more  dreadful 
mt  disease,  ez- 
loslon  a  tempo- 
'ance  of  death, 
1,  absolutely  es- 
She  was  very 
;d  in  too  great 
ome  physicians, 
crisis,  thought 
the  pestilence, 
to  forget  that 

re  the  ordinary 
evinced  a  pro- 
they  soon  per- 
)erance  with  in>- 
dred  a  day,  and 
rst  rudiments  of 
them  from  the 
but  the  Foun- 
dotcrmiucd  to 
sooner  had  they 
inistered.    Rev. 
iges  of  the  epl- 
vied  with  each 


The  ;>re8ence  of  the  Sisters  was  of  great  assistance  to  the  medi' 
cal  staff.  The  populace,  under  a  general  impression  that  the  doc- 
tors murdered  all  who  died,  at  first  not  only  refused  to  submit  their 
sick  to  medical  treatment,  but  they  watched  the  sick  who  were 
being  carried  to  the  hospital ;  and,  after  having  robbed  the  cholera 
carts  of  their  miserable  freight,  broke  them,  and  flung  the  frag- 
ments into  the  Liffey.  Even  the  venerable  Archbishop  and  clergy 
could  not  prevail  on  them  to  send  their  sick  to  the  hospital.  When, 
however,  the  poor  terrified  people  saw  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  ac- 
cepting and  administering  the  prescriptions  of  the  physicians,  they 
became  satisfied,  and  in  a  little  while  their  frenzy  was  entirely 
calmed. 

Protestant  patients  crowded  to  the  Sisters,  and  most  of  them, 
after  waituig  vainly  for  a  visit  from  their  own  minister,  begged  to 
be  instracted  in  the  Catholic  faith.  While  Catholic  clergy  lived 
in  the  crowded  wards,  other  clergy  could  not  be  indnced  to  set  a 
foot  in  them.  Indeed,  if  the  ministers  were  self-sacrificing  enough 
to  desire  to  fulfil  their  obligations  to  the  dying,  their  wives  were 
generally  ready  to  maintain  that  the  marriage  vows  w^cre  more 
binding  than  the  ordination  vows,  and  the  theology  of  the  ladies 
invariably  prevailed.  Once,  indeed,  when  the  beason  was  far  ad- 
vanced, a  clergyman  passed  through  the  broad  corridors,  and 
called  aloud  to  inquire  whether  a  friend  of  his,  who  was  sent  in 
some  days  ago,  were  still  alive.  A  nurse  politely  requested  him  to 
come  and  sec,  but  a  sudden  panic  seizing  him,  he  fled  for  his  life. 
The  nurse,  who  had  a  wonderful  facility  for  speaking  unnecessarily, 
was  painfully  candid  in  expressing  her  private  opinion  of  the  poor 
minister's  zeal.  Raising  her  voice  to  the  squealing  key,  ns  ho  hur- 
riedly receded,  she  gave  him,  to  the  great  amusement  of  all  within 
hearing,  a  very  uncomplimentary  lecture,  of  which  only  tbo  echo 
reached  him.  ■  Patients,  Just  escaped  from  the  jaws  of  death, 
stretched  out  their  heads  with  cars  erect,  to  hear  the  one-sided  ar- 
gument, and  convalescents  tottered  to  the  doors  with  similar  intent. 
The  physicians  could  not  preserve  their  gravity,  and  laughter  was 
beard  for  the  first  time  in  the  dismal  Cholera  Hospital. 

From  Dean  Gaffney's  Memoir  of  the  Fouudrces,  wc  make  tbo 
following  extract,  relative  to  her  labors  iu  the  Ciiolera  Hospital : 


-J^- 


mm 


228 


LIFE  OP  OATHEBINE  MCAULBY. 


"  Bat  the  hospitals,  where  the  cry  of  the  infant  was  wildly 
mingled  with  tl  e  moans  of  its  expiring  mother ;  where  the  stoat, 
strong  man  made  the  iron  bedstead  on  which  he  lay  tremble,  as  his 
writhing  frame  quivered  in  the  fearful  paroxysms  of  his  malady ;  where 
pestilence,  in  its  most  terrific  form,  pointed  to  the  purple  features, 
clay-cold  limbs,  and  whispering  accents  of  its  crowded  victims,  and 
laughed  to  scorn  the  subtlest  skill  of  the  physician*— there,  in  the 
very  sanctuary  of  disease,  what  desperate  devotedness  would  ven- 
ture ?  Even  there  was  the  Sister  of  Mercy,  and  not  only  to  enter, 
but  to  take  up  her  abode  entirely  for  months ;  and,  true  to  the  ex- 
ample of  Him  who  laid  down  His  life  for  others,  she  gave  herself 
a  willing  victim  upon  the  altar  of  charity.  So  great  was  the  de- 
votedness of  these  Religious,  that  one  of  them  contracted  an  infir- 
mity under  which  she  labored  many  months,  and  of  which  she  waa 
healed  with  difficulty.  A  zeal  so  intense,  a  charity  so  devoted, 
was  worthy  of  rewnr^  even  in  this  world  ; — while  hundreds  were 
dying  around  them,  they  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life.  Not  one 
Sister  of  Mercy  fell  a  victim  to  the  malady."! 

*  Aa  a  contrut  to  the  leal  of  Arohbiahop  Murray  and  hii  clergj,  during  the 
flrit  Tiaitation  of  the  cholera,  it  ahould  be  remembered  that  the  late  Dr.  Whateljr 
exempted  hia  clergy  from  attendance  on  the  plague-atrioken,  leal  they  ahould  con< 
vey  infection  to  their  familiea ;  and  thus  Protestanta,  whether  in  hoapitals  or  in 
their  own  houaea,  were  doomed  to  die  without  the  attendance  of  their  apiritual, 
though  not  of  their  corporal,  phyaioians. 

t  They  were  not  so  fortunate,  or  rather  they  were  more  fortunate,  during 
the  epidemic  popularly  termed  "  the  fumlne  fever."  Several  Slaters  died  of 
this.  In  Bomo  houses  nine  in  ten  were  attacked  at  the  same  time :  in  one  con- 
vent every  Sister  was  in  the  infirmary  but  one,  who,  to  keep  up  some  appear- 
ance of  community  life,  used  to  ring  bella  for  all  the  esoroisea,  though  thorw 
vaa  no  one  to  answer  them. 

;  „  ♦.•  *  ■■■?        .;■■  .    ■  , 


•-wwwwiwwiww*:^ " 


t  was  wfldly 
lere  tho  stout, 
xeir.blc,  as  his 
nalady;  where 
urple  features, 
i  victims,  and 
—there,  in  the 
;8S  would  ven- 
;  only  to  enter, 
true  to  the  ex- 
lie  gave  herself 
»at  was  the  de- 
;racted  an  infir- 

which  she  was 
ity  so  devoted, 

hundreds  were 
,  life.    Not  one 


I  clergy,  during  the 
|e  Iste  Dr.  Whately 
il  they  BhoaM  con- 
in  hoapitaU  or  in 
of  their  ipiritual, 

fortiin«t4S,  during 
■al  Siiten  died  of 
time :  in  one  oon- 
p  up  Bome  appear- 
mw,  though  thoT* 


I 


.L  i , 


'■-i:. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 


DiHtrcss  of  the  poor  in  1882.— Tlie  DuchesB  of  Kent.— The  Prinoess  Viotoria.— 
Tlie  Catholio  queens. — A  royal  donntion. — Now  occcssions. — ProfuBsion.— 
Extract  from  Very  Bev.  Doininio  Murphy.— Mary  Teresa  MoAnley's  inter- 
view with  tho  Archbishop. — Her  lost  days. — ^Iler  death. — Orief  of  tho 
Foundress. 

IN  autumn,  1833,  the  Foundress  and  her  spiritual  children 
quitted  the  hospital,  the  pestilence  having  entirely  ceased. 
They  had  no  leisure  to  rest,  however  ;  the  cholera  left  them  hun- 
dreds of  widows  and  orphans  to  provide  for.  The  House  of 
Mercy  and  Orphanage  were  crowded  to  excess,  and  tlie  yearly 
revenues  Mother  McAuley  had  settled  on  them  were  quite  inade- 
quate to  their  present  wants.  A  bazaar  was  the  first  expedient 
that  suggested  itself  to  her  anxious  mind ;  but  those  to  whose 
opinions  she  deferred  prophesied  >  at  such  an  undertaking  would 
prove  a  complete  failure.  Yet  she  soon  won  them  over  to  her 
views,  and  insured  the  success  of  the  enterprise  by  extraordinary 
means. 

King  William  lY.  was  then  old,  and  the  eyes  of  many  turned 
hopefully  towards  the  future  Queen  Regnant,  tho  Princess  Vic- 
toria, then  in  her  fourteenth  year.  The  Foundress  determined  to 
make  an  appeal  to  the  heiress  presumptive,  through  her  natural 
guardian,  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  in  behalf  of  those  whom  the  cholera 
had  reduced  to  misery,  by  depriving  them  of  theur  parents  or 
husbands. 

This  was  indeed  a  bold  stroke.  Little  sympathy  and  assistance 
could  the  character  or  position  of  Catherine  McAuley  expect  from 
a  princess  of  the  Brunswick  line,  a  line  which  received  the  British 
crown  on  condition  of  endeavoring  to  extirpate  the  imperishable 
Church — in  the  British  empire,  at  least.  The  terms  queen  and 
alms  ffi>M>r  were  no  longer  synonymous,  as  in  former  times.    The 


230 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


Maudes,  the  Marguerites,  the  Adelicias,  the  Philippas,  whose 
gemmed  hands  so  affectionately  ministered  to  lepera,  bad  passed 
away.  The  last  Catholic  princess*  of  England  bad  £ed  trom  its 
inhospitable  shores,  disguised  as  a  washerwoman,  and  bearing  ia 
her  trembling  arms  the  infant  heir  of  dominions  on  which  the  sun 
never  sets.  Mary  Clementina,  the  bride  of  the  chevalier,  never 
reigned,  and  her  son,  Cardinal  York,  was  perhaps  happier  in  his 
quiet  villa  at  Frascati  than  any  of  his  ancestors,  direct  or  collateral, 
had  been  at  Holyrood  or  Whitehall.  Undaunted  by  the  bigotry 
which  the  reigning  family  had  ever  evinced.  Mother  McAuley  wrote 
a  touching  epistle  to  the  Duchess  of  Kent,  in  which  she  eloquently 
set  forth  the  distress  the  cholera  had  occasioned  among  the  poor, 
and  entreated  that  her  royal  highness,  and  the  princess,  her  daugh- 
ter, would  be  graciously  pleased  to  patronize  the  charitable  works 
shb  ras  inaugurating  chiefly  for  persons  of  their  own  sex  ;  adding 
that  such  charity  would  be  well  calculated  to  draw  down  the  bene- 
dictions of  heaven  on  the  youthful  princess  who  was  destined  to 
become  the  sovereign  lady  and  mother  of  the  realm — (her  present 
majesty.) 

The  duchess  returned  a  most  gracious  reply,  and,  in  a  few  days, 
a  large  assortment  of  fancy  work,  executed  by  the  royal  fingers  of 
mother  and  daughter,  was  officially  delivered  at  Baggot-street. 
Card,  Berlin,  and  raised  work,  wrought  by  the  duchess,  a  large 
velvet  muff  elegantly  embroidered,  and  several  drawings  by  the 
Princess  Victoria,  made  up  the  contents  of  this  valuable  contri- 
bution. Each  article  had  its  value  further  enhanced  by  the  royal 
autograph  of  the  fair  donor,  which  was  affixed.  This  was  a  prece- 
dent worthy  of  imitation.  Thousands,  who  otherwise  had  done 
nothing  for  the  poor,  now  flocked  to  the  ball,  and  the  Imzaor  was 
the  most  prosperous  ever  held  for  the  poor  of  Dublin. 

In  October,  1832,  the  second  ceremony  of  reception  took  place. 
Four  Sisters  received  the  holy  habit  from  the  hands  of  the  Arch- 
bishop. An  immense  concourse  of  seculars  attended,  the  Foundress 
taking  care  to  make  amends  to  the  disappointed  public  for  their 
exclusion  from  a  former  ceremony. 


*  Moriu  d'£i<U,  (jueeii  Contort  of  James  II. 


ippas,  whose 
3,  had  passed 
flecl.  from  its 
b4  bearing  ia 
which  the  sun 
evalier,  never 
happier  in  his 
t  or  collateral, 
by  the  bigotry 
tfcAuley  wrote 
she  eloquently 
nong  the  poor, 
ess,  her  daugb- 
laritable  works 
rnsex;  adding 
down  the  bene- 
yas  destined  to 
1 — (her  present 

,  in  a  few  days, 
royal  fingers  of 
Baggot-street. 
luchess,  a  largo 
rawings  by  the 
valuable  contri- 
ed  by  the  royal 
his  was  a  prece- 
rwise  had  done 
the  bazaar  was 
in. 

)tion  took  place. 

ds  of  the  Arch- 

,  the  Foundress 

public  for  their 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


281 


The  first  ceremony  of  profession  took  place  on  the  24th  of  Jan- 
nary,  1833.  Four  of  the  "  first  seven"  ladies  received  a  year  be- 
fore wore  admitted  to  make  their  vows,  the  Archbishop  presiding. 
This  event  is  thus  noted  by  the  simple  Annalist  :* 

"  The  Sisters  seemed  inspired  while  devoting  themselves.  The 
procession  was  very  imposing,  and  the  music  most  effective  ;  the 
fervent  novices  pronounced  the  holy  vows  which  bound  them  for 
life  in  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  to  the  service  of  the  poor, 
sick,  and  i(;norant,  in  a  manner  that  evinced  their  lively  gratitude 
to  God  foi-  such  a  vocation.  Their  love  seemed  to  emulate  that 
of  the  saints,  who,  from  the  exercise  of  the  same  virtues  and  the 
practice  of  similar  duties  on  earth,  are  now  enjoying  their  Father's 
smile  in  heaven." 

Dnring  the  year  1833  several  promising  subjects  entered,  and 
among  them  two  widows,  Mrs.  McCann  and  Mrs.  Jarmie  ;  the  lat- 
ter was  just  three  times  as  old  as  the  former,  yet  she  survived  all 
her  yonng  contemporaries,  dying  in  1858. 

Alluding  to  the  early  days  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  Very  Rever- 
end Dominic  Murphy,  Dean  of  St.  Finbarr's,  Cork,  writes  : 

"  Whether  it  was  that  God  wished  to  try  the  young  communit ' 
in  the  hard  ordeal  of  tribulation,  or  that  He  designed  to  reward  a 
devotedness  so  perfect  and  a  charity  so  sublime  by  a  speedy  admis- 
sion to  the  heavenly  mansions,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  say,  but  it 
is  a  singular  circumstance  attending  the  commencement  of  this 
Order,  that  during  the  first  six  years  of  its  existence  no  fewer  than 
fifteen  of  its  members  were  struck  down  by  death,  and  passed  in 
the  very  freshness  of  their  youth  and  the  zenith  of  their  usefulness 
to  the  possession  of  that  reward  promised  to  those  who  leave 
father  and  mother  and  all,  to  take  their  Divine  Saviour  as  the 
portion  of  their  inheritance.  Not  one  of  the  fifteen  had  reached 
her  twenty-third  year." 

*  Annalist,  in  conventual  parlance,  means  the  Sister  whose  office  it  is  to  nottt 
down  Bs  they  occur  events  important  to  the  Order.  From  those  annals  the  his- 
tory of  the  Order  may  afterwards  be  compiled  ;  also  Circular  Letters,  &o, 

t  We  do  not  And  flileen  deaths  recorded  in  the  Baggot-street  Register  for  tho 
first  six  years,  but  there  being  no  second  house  of  tlie  Order  during  that  period, 
ton>e  novices  or  postulantes  may  have  been  obliged  to  go  out  for  ohangeof  air; 
in  this  way  Ihe  9(teen  might  b«  exceeded. 


— *    -_. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERI17E  MCAULET. 


Bat  the  greatest  Bacrifice  God  ever  asked  of  her  in  whose  re* 
gard  He  never  permitted  the  tomb  to  be  closed,  was  her  angelic 
niece,  Sister  Mary  Teresa  McAuley.  She  had  been  the  companion 
of  her  aunt's  toils,  the  sharer  of  her  anxieties  ;  her  virtues  were  a 
source  of  consolation  to  all,  her  example  a  continual  sermon,  si- 
lent, indeed,  bat  more  eloquent  than  any  words.  While  yet  in  the 
infancy  of  her  spiritual  lite,  she  had  practised  the  most  rigorous 
mortiGcations.  She  had  worn  a  rough  girdle  till  it  cut  its  way 
through  her  flesh,  and  her  scanty  sleep  she  was  accustomed  to  take 
on  the  boards,  in  the  most  penitential  posture  she  could  assume. 
Her  labors  in  the  Institute  were  so  great,  that  her  aunt  was  ob- 
liged to  command  her  to  moderate  them.  Symptoms  of  consump- 
tion appearing,  and  the  saintly  novice  being  dispensed,  now  with 
one  duty  and  again  with  another,  began  to  imagine  that  her  weak 
health  was  an  indication  of  her  incapacity  to  fulfil  the  duties  of 
an  active  order,  and  a  warning  to  devote  herself  to  God  in  a  life 
of  strict  contemplation.  For  a  while  she  suffered  terrible  suspense, 
and,  fW)m  a  feeling  of  delicacy  which  will  be  easily  understood, 
she  refrained  from  explaining  her 'difficulties  to  her  aunt.  Re- 
solved to  accomplish  God's  will,  whatever  it  cost  her,  she  fre- 
quently exclaimed  :  "  Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to  do  ?"  But 
no  voice  from  heaven  responded.  At  last  she  summoned  courage 
to  tell  her  spiritual  Mother  that  she  was  desurous  of  joiniug  the 
Carmelites.  The  Foundress,  fearing  lest  her  deep  affection  for  this 
dear  daughter  might  insensibly  iuiluence  her  decision,  refused  to 
give  any  opinion  on  the  subject,  but  gently  said  : 

"  !f  God  wants  you  to  be  a  Carmelite,  my  darling,  yon  shall  be 
one.  I  myself  will  aid  you  instead  of  preventing  you.  I  only  ask 
that  you  will  do  nothing  rashly." 

Mother  McAuley  procured  her  a  private  interview  with  the 
Archbishop,  whom  she  loved  and  reverenced  as  her  Father  in  God, 
and  in  whose  wisdom  and  sanctity  she  placed  unbounded  confi- 
dence. The  reader  will  remember  that  it  was  Dr.  Murray  who 
received  her  abjuration  and  baptized  her,  in  1828. 

His  Grace  commenced  by  inquiring  whether  she  was  willing  to 
believe  that  the  decision  he  should  come  to,  after  hearing  her  dif- 
ficulties. &c.,  would  be  the  manifestation  of  God's  will  in  her  re- 


•   ] 


^■''   "r  ^"1  nil  iliiii.i 


.  in  whose  te- 
as her  angelic 
the  comiMinion 
yirtues  were  a 
lal  sermon,  sir 
bile  yet  in  the 
most  rigorous 
it  cut  its  way 
istomed  to  take 

could  assume, 
r  aunt  was  ob- 
ms  of  consump- 
jnsed,  now  with 
)  that  her  weak 
il  the  duties  of 
to  God  in  a  life 
errible  suspense, 
isily  understood, 

her  aunt.  Be- 
pst  her,  she  fre- 
me  to  do  ?"  But 
nmoned  courage 
IS  of  joining  the 

affection  for  thiB 

iision,  refused  to 

ing,  yoo  shall  be 
yoo.    I  only  ask 

terview  with  the 

T  Father  in  God, 

unbounded  conft- 

Dr.  Murray  who 

he  was  willing  to 
hearing  her  dif* 
d's  will  in  her  re- 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  UOAULEr. 


238 


gard.    She  replied  in  the  affirmatire,  promising  to  remain  with 
the  Sisters  of  Mercy  or  go  to  the  Carmelites,  as  he  directed. 

*'  Then,"  said  his  Grace,  "  yon  may  tell  me  all." 

She  mentioned  her  uneasiness  at  not  being  able  to  teach,  visit 
the  sick,  and  instruct  as  the  other  Sisters  did,  adding  that  she  could 
hardly  believe  herself  called  to  an  Institute  whose  peculiar  duties 
she  was  so  seldom  able  to  fulfil.  She  then  asked  whether  a  con- 
templative life  was  not  more  perfect. 

The  Archbishop  showed  her  that  though  a  contemplative  lifb 
may  be  more  agreeable,  still  it  was  not  the  life  our  blessed  Lord 
and  his  apostles  led  on  earth. 

"  Our  Lord,"  continued  his  Grace,  "  lied  such  a  life  as  your  rule 
proposes.  He  obeyed  his  parents,  He  worked  like  the  poor,  He 
instructed  the  ignorant,  relieved  the  sick,  performed,  in  short,  all 
the  works  of  mercy.  He  made  retreats,  and  passed  much  of  his 
thne  in  prayer.  So  do  you.  In  His  exterior  works  your  vocation 
is  to  imitate  Him  as  far  as  your  superiors  direct.  For,  remember, 
though  the  exterior  duties  must  be  done,  it  is  not  those  who  wish 
to  perform  the  works  of  mercy  that  are  always  required  to  do  so 
in  religion,  but  those  appointed.  Any  Sister  not  employed  in  such 
or  such  a  duty  ought  not  to  be  uneasy,  so  long  as  she  holds  herself 
in  readiness  to  perform  what  obedience  may  enjoin.  Your  health 
was  good  when  yon  came  here  some  years  ago.  To  leave  now  be- 
cause of  weak  health,  or  any  other  cause,  would  bo  to  take  a  rash 
step,  to  yield  to  a  dangerous  delusion." 

Much  more  passed  at  this  interview,  and  his  Grace  on  retiring 
assured  the  consoled  and  grateful  novice  that  her  doubts  and  fears 
would  immediately  pass  away,  which  accordingly  happened.'*' 

Mother  McAuley  was  most  grateful  to  God  for  restoring  peace 
of  mind  to  ode  whose  happiness  was  so  dear  to  her ;  and  her 
niece,  on  her  part,  thought  only  of  preparing  for  her  profession. 
Her  life  became  daily  more  saintly  ;  all  her  solicitude  was  directed 
to  the  wants  of  others — of  herself  she  seemed  to  take  no  heed 
She  often  spoke  with  delight  of  the  happiness  of  being  consecrated 

*  S.  M.  Teresa  gave  an  account  of  the  above  interview  to  S.  M.  Franoea 
Warde,  iVom  whom  we  had  it.  It  ia  alto  mentioned  by  Dean  Mnrphy  In  bia 
Memoir  of  tlie  Foandreaa.  • 


ammtt 


284 


LIFE  OP  CATHEKIKE  MCAULET. 


to  God  under  the  patronage  of  the  sweet  Mother  of  Mercj.  Her 
life,  indeed,  seemed  faultless.  Alas,  how  little  did  her  companions 
think  that  this  beauteous  flower  was  soon  to  be  traasplanted  into 
a  holier  soil  I 

One  evening,  in  autumn,  1833,  Sister  Mary  Teresa  observed  one. 
of  the  orphan  children  on  the  roof  of  an  outhouse,  which  she  had 
climbed  with  childish  recklessness,  and  from  which  she  was  in  im- 
minent danger  of  falling.  In  the  effort  to  rescue  the  foolish  little 
one,  she  burst  a  blood-vessel,  and  had  barely  strength  to  return  to 
the  convent.  With  a  glance,  her  aunt  saw  that  recovery  was 
hopeless.  On  leaning  this,  the  Archbishop,  being  ill  himself,  sent 
their  mutual  friend,  Dean  Qaffney,  to  receive  her  vows.  After 
Extreme  Unction,  she  requested  that  all  the  Sisters  should  bo  sent 
for,  and,  in  the  most  hnmble  and  pathetic  manner,  begged  pardon 
of  each  for  the  scandal  she  said  she  had  given.  Of  this,  the  An- 
nalist says :  "This  effort  so  exhausted  the  dying  spouse  of  Christ, 
and  so  deeply  grieved  the  Sisters,  who  could  never  discover  even 
an  imperfection  in  her,  that  poor  Reverend  Mother  was  nearly 
overcome,  and  almost  resolved  never  to  allow  such  a  scene  again." 

Dr.  James  McAuley  visited  her  daily.  The  day  before  her 
death,  as  he  embraced  her  in  an  agony  of  grief,  she  said  to 
him  : 

"Dear  nncle,  yon  never  refused  me  any  thing.  I  now  entreat 
yon  to  return  to  the  Church  in  which  you  were  born,  and  in  which 
I  rejoice  to  die." 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  she  died,  as  Dr.  R. ,  a  physician, 

who  had  known  her  from  infancy,  seated  himself  by  her  bed,  she 
suddenly  asked  him  how  many  hours  he  thought  she  had  to  live. 
Moved  to  tears  by  this  question,  he  gave  an  evasive  answer. 

"  Don't  be  afraid  to  tell  me  what  you  think,  doctor,"  she  ob- 
served. "People  who  are  attached  to  life  are  terrified  at  the 
prospect  of  death,  but  a  Religious  rejoices  at  its  approach,  viewing 
it  as  an  end  of  banishment  and  the  beginning  of  real  happiness." 

When  he  ordered  her  infirmariau  to  wrap  her  feet  in  hot  flannels, 
she  said,  with  a  playful  smile  : 

"  Now,  doctor,  tell  me  frankly,  have  yon  not  ordered  these  to 
keep  off  the  chill  of  death,  which  is  gathering  on  me  V 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULEY. 


asft 


rcy.  Her 
lompanions 
lanted  into 

bservcd  one 
icb  she  had 
5  was  in  im- 
foolisb  little 
to  return  to 
Bcovery  was 
himself,  sent 
ows.    After 
lonld  bo  sent 
jgged  pardon 
this,  the  An- 
ase  of  Christ, 
discover  even 
ir  was  nearly 
scene  again, 
ly  before  her 
;  she  said  to 

now  entreat 
and  in  wUcb 

— ,  a  physician, 
)y  her  bed,  she 
she  had  to  live. 
I  answer, 
doctor,"  she  ob- 
tcrrified  at  the 
proach,  viewing 
.  happiness." 
t  in  hot  flannels, 

ordered  these  to 
ne?" 


The  Feast  of  St.  Martin  of  Toars  was  an  important  day  in  the 
annals  of  Catherine  McAnley.  On  that  day,  1822,  ^he  closed  the 
eyes  of  her  adopted  father.  On  the  same  day,  1833,  the  soni  of 
her  "  darling  Mary  Teresa,"  as  she  fondly  styled  her,  was  sum- 
moned from  this  miserable  world  ;  and,  on  the  same  Feast,  eight 
years  later,  she  herself  slept  in  Christ. 

.On  this  day,  1833,  an  expression  of  unearthly  joy  suffused 
the  lovely  countenance  of  the  dying  Religious.  Her  uncle,  who 
could  not  reconcile  himself  to  the  thought  of  her  death,  continued 
to  call  in  the  ablest  physicians.  One  of  these,  called  in  for  con- 
sultation, manifested  great  surprise  that  one  so  young  and  beauti- 
ful could  meet  death  with  such  delight.  With  a  heavenly  smile, 
she  said  to  him  : 

"  Bo  not  amazed,  doctor,  that '  I  go  rejoicing.'  Serve  your  God 
well,  and  He  will  console  yon  when  all  else  is  about  to  vanish 
forever." 

Then,  with  that  exquisite  courtesy  which  she  possessed  in  com- 
mon with  her  aunt,  she  added : 

"  I  thank  yon,  sir,  for  the  pains  you  have  taken  to  alleviate  my 
sufferings.  I  pray  that  God  may  reward  your  charity,  and  that, 
when  yon  come  to  lie  on  the  bed  of  death,  you  may  feel  as  happy 
as  I  do  now."  * 

Towards  evening,  her  increasing  longing  to  be  dissolved  and  be 
with  Christ  appeared  by  her  beautiful  aspirations.  Never  before 
had  she  looked  so  lovely.  Her  appeai'ance  created  universal  sur- 
prise. Yet  it  was  not  so  wonderful :  if  the  approach  of  the  nup- 
tial hour  gladdens  the  heart  of  an  earthly  bride,  and  causes  the 
maidenly  blush  of  happiness  to  mantle  on  her  check,  why  should 
not  the  bride  of  Heaven,  the  spouce  of  the  Lamb,  rejoice  when 
the  angels  give  tidings  of  His  coming — "  Behold,  the  Bridegroom 
Cometh  :  go  forth  to  meet  Him." 

Yet  she  did  not  expire  without  a  struggle.  Towards  night  she 
was  assailed  with  grievous  temptations  to  despair,  so  violent  that 
they  made  her  beautiful  countenance  writhe  in  agony.  The  Sisters 

*  The  phynician  to  whom  Mary  Teresa  apoko  thus  was  then  a  Protestant. 
Tears  after,  he  declared  that  he  regarded  hi*  interview  with  her  aa  a  apecial 
graoe,  whose  blesaed  effecU  lie  atiU  felt. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Borronnded  her  in  earnest  prayer,  bat  this  trial  continaed  more 
than  two  honrs. 

"  Oh  t"  exclaimed  the  Foundress,  "  I  know  onr  Lord  wonld  com- 
fort her  if  the  Mother  of  Mercy  would  only  say  one  prayer  for  her!" 

At  the  mention  of  her  beloved  Mother  of  Mercy,  she  smiled 
faintly,  and,  after  a  little  more  excessive  saffering,  her  wonted 
serenity  was  restored.  "  It  ought  to  be  mentioned,"  says  the  An- 
nalist, "  that  nearly  her  last  words  were  an  appeal  of  charity  ia 
behalf  of  a  straying  soul."* 

About  midnight  she  pronounced  the  sacred  names  of  Jesus  and 
Mary,'  and  then  closed  her  eyes  to  earth.  Her  head  rested  on  the 
bosom  of  that  aunt  who  had  loved  her  with  more  than  maternal 
tenderness ;  her  face,  radiant  as  ever,  soon  became  expressive  of 
an  abandonment  deeper  than  that  of  sleep  ;  but  it  was  some  time 
before  those  who  watched  her  so  closely  could  be  convinced  that 
fihe  was  indeed  no  more. 

Who  can  describe  the  anguish  of  the  bereaved  Foundress  ?  The 
mind  of  the  deceased,  like  that  of  her  aunt,  was  great  and  compre- 
hensive, and  her  '"tue  far  beyond  the  ordinary  standard.  The 
winning  playful  >f  her  manners,  especially  at  recreation,  was 

but  the  unbend!  .  superior  intellect.    The  friendship  between 

the  mature  aunt  and  the  young  niece  had  never  been  sullied  by  the 
most  transient  estrangement.  Calmly,  and  with  a  tearless  eye,  that 
aunt  gazed  on  the  beloved  form  that  now  lay  in  silent  loveliness 
on  the  couch  of  death,  while  the  sobs  and  tears  of  the  Sisters  in- 
terrupted the  requiem.  Yet,  if  a  word  could  call  back  the  de- 
parted spirit.  Mother  McAuley  had  not  given  utterance  to  that 
word.  "  I  loved  my  Mary  Teresa  too  much,"  said  she,  "  and  Qo  1  ' 
took  her  from  me.  We  must  love  Him  as  well  when  He  takes  as 
when  He  gives.    May  I  never  be  free  from  His  cross  1" 

Years  after,  when  she  laid  her  nephew,  James,  in  the  tomb,  she 
wrote  :  "  My  earthly  joys  are  all  cut  down  now,  thank  Ood;"  but 
she  never  had  a  dearer  "earthly  joy"  than  Mary  Teresa. 

*  It  n  remttrkable  that  nearly  all  the  early  Sinters  died  almost  in  the  act  of  doing 
or  guj;ge8ting  something  for  the  good  of  the  poor,  of  sinners,  etc.  The  wonder- 
fally  happy  deaths  they  all  had  was  attributed  to  the  great  devotion  to  St. 
Joseph  that  prevailed  in  the  Order. 


laed  111016 

f  ould  com- 
jr  for  berl" 
she  smiled 
ler  wonted 
lys  the  An- 
f  charity  in 

)f  Jesus  and 
•ested  on  the 
ian  maternal 
expressive  of 
■as  some  time 
onvinced  that 

mdress?  The 
t  and  compre- 
tandard.  The 
Recreation,  was 
idship  between 

sullied  by  the 
arless  eye,  that 
iilent  loveliness 

the  Sisters  in- 
back  the  de- 
ferance  to  that 

she,  "and  Go  1' 
i  He  takes  as 

1" 

the  tomb,  she 
mk  God;"  but 


f^in  the  not  of  doing 

etc.    The  wonder- 

Lt  devotion  to  St. 


, 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


m 


When  it  was  noised  abroad  that  this  beanttfal  one  was  no  more, 
many  a  gay,  tliongbtless  girl,  to  whom  the  memory  of  her  piety 
was  a  sort  of  talisman,  and  in  whom  the  greatness  of  her  early  sac* 
rifice  had  awakened  a  feeling  akin  to  reverence,  wept  with  emotion 
on  seeing  how  soon  God  had  rewarded  this  youn^  and  lovely 
being.  "  la  a  short,  time  she  fulfilled  a  long  space."  Happy  was 
she'  in  wisely  choosing  Him  for  her  Spouse  at  whose  judgment-seat 
she  was  destined  so  soon  to  appear  !  * 

"  I  have  always  observed,"  says  a  spiritual  writer,f  "  that  good 
persons  are  ever  compassionate,  and  easily  moved  to  tears."  But 
who  could  be  more  compassionate  than  Catherine  McAuley  ?  In 
this  point,  above  all  others,  she  strove  to  resemble  Him  who  gave 
His  life  for  men.  Her  letters  and  other  writings  are  replete  with 
beautiful  allusions  to  the  "  mercy,  compassion,  sweetness,  patience, 
and  tender  pity"  of  our  Redeemer.  These  consoling  attributes 
were,  as  might  be  expected,  the  objects  of  her  special  devotion. 
In  the  following  prayer,  which  she  wrote  in  compliance  with  the 
request  of  a  Sister,  see  how  sweetly  she  appeals  to  His  "  compas- 
sionate, if  der  pity  :" 

"My  <j(od,  I  am  Thine  for  time  and  eternity  I  Teach  me  to 
cast  myself  entirely  into  the  arms  of  Thy  loving  providence,  with 
the  most  lively,  unlimited  confidence  in  Thy  compassionate,  tender 
pity.  Grant,  O  most  merciful  Redeemer  I  that  whatever  Thou 
dost  ordain  or  permit  may  be  always  acceptable  to  me.  Take  from 
my  heart  all  painful  anxiety  ;  suffer  nothing  to  sadden  me  but  sin, 
nothing  to  delight  me  but  the  hope  of  coming  to  the  possession 
of  Thee,  my  God  and  my  All,  in  Thine  own  everlasting  kingdom  1" 

The  sentiment  of  tender  compassion  for  the  wants  and  miseries, 
spiritual  and  temporal,  of  others,  Mother  McAuley  esteemed  as  a 
necessary  quality  in  all  who  aspired  to  join  her  Institute.  She 
wished  that  the  Sisters  should  feel  and  show  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion for  each  other,  especially  in  the  hour  of  trial  ;  for  she  knew 
that  if  they  did  not  practise  this  at  home,  they  could  not,  when 
abroad,  evince  "  the  tenderest  pity  and  compassion  for  the  poor," 

*  The  date  of  Mary  Teresa's  death  is  variously  given  as  the  11th  and  12th  ot 
November,  from  the  eiroumstance  that  she  died  about  midnight. 
t  Saint-Jure. 


238 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


as  tbo  rule  obliges  them  to  do.  Yet  she  herself  performed  the  last 
offices  and  said  the  last  prayers  for  her  own  relatives  without  be- 
traying the  least  emotion,  or  even  shedding  a  tear.  The  probable 
reason  of  this  was,  that  she  did  not  wish  to  inflict  her  troubles  on 
others,  or  that  her  grief  at  the  moment  was  too  deep  for  tears. 
The  Sisters  loved  her  the  better  when  they  learned  that  she  wept 
in  secret  as  each  dear  one  was  taken  from  her.  At  the  death  of 
others,  however,  she  always  wept,  but  her  tfiars  were  sweet  ones. 

Mother  McAuley's  letters  contain  several  allusions  to  Mary  Te- 
resa, who  was  evidently  her  beau  ideal  of  perfection.  When  a 
very  handsome  lady  entered,  she  would  describe  her  as  being  "  not 
unlike  my  Mary  Teresa."  Another  "had  almost  mind  and  as 
formed  a  character  as  my  darling  Mary  Teresa."  Another  "  is  all 
ardor  and  zeal  for  the  poor,  like  my  Mary  Teresa."  Another 
"  bears  some  resemblance  to  my  Mar  Teresa,  and  is  just  as  in- 
nocent,"   Similar  phrases  are  of  frequt-ut  occurrence  in  Ler  notes. 


id  the  last 
ithout  be- 
)  probable 
roubles  on 

for  tears, 
t  sbe  wept 
le  death  of 
ireet  ones. 
,0  Mary  Te- 
,     When  a 

being  "  not 
nind  and  aB 
other  "  is  all 
[.»  Another 
ia  just  as  in- 
in  her  notes. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Bute  and  Constitutiona  of  .ho  Order  of  Mercy. — ^Lay  Sisters. — ^Very  Bev.  James 
Bice, — Oppoiition  to  tlie  nenr  Institute. — The  Pope  sends  his  approbation,  aud 
his  apostolic  benediction  to  its  members. — Mother  MoAuley  gives  an  account 
of  the  foundation  of  the  Order. — Letters. 

ALTHOUGH  the  Rule  and  Constitntions  of  the  Institute  were 
no^  completed  till  1834,  or  approved  till  1835,  yet  in  substance 
thoT  contain  nothicg  but  what  had  been  observed  from  1827. 
The  li'onndress,  in  composing  or  compiling  them,  had  but  to  collect 
the  pious  practices  she  herself  had  established.  The  basis  of  her 
Rnle  was  that  of  St.  Augustine,  of  which  the  Pres^-itation  Rule  is 
but  another  form  ;  but  time  and  other  circumstances  required  many 
alterations,  which  cost  her  immense  labor  and  incessant  prayer. 
She  often  observed  to  the  Sisters,  that  every  word  of  the  Rule  they 
practised  was  the  fruit  of  prayer.  Taken  as  a  whole,  it  may  bo 
regarded  as  a  faithful  exponent  of  her  views  on  religious  perfection, 
and  in  writing  it  she  unconsciously  drew  her  own  portrait.  It  is 
concise,  but  nothing  essential  is  omitted.  Ardent  charity,  profound 
humility,  and  tender  piety  pervade  every  section.  A  high  degree 
of  religious  perfection  is  exacted,  but  with  so  much  sweetness  and 
prudence,  that  at  first  sight  it  seems  easy  to  observe  rules  in  which 
common  sense  forms  the  basis  of  the  most  exalted  virtue  ;  yet  no 
one  can  observe  even  one*  of  them  in  its  perfection  without  be* 
coming  a  saint.  ,  ■. 

*  As,  for  instance,  the  following : 

"  The  Sisters  shall  most  studiously  watch  over  themselves,  and  guard  against 
the  insinuations  of  self-love,  lost  thoy  lose  the  merit  of  th^ir  good  works  by 
■elf-complacency  or  vain-glory,  or  by  having  in  their  actions  any  other  motivs 
or  end  in  \  vv  than  to  please  Qod.  They  are  never  to  act  through  inclinatiom 
or  capiie*,  but  all  shall  be  performed  with  regularity  and  exactness,  and  referred 
with  the  utmost  forvot  Ka  the  Divine  honor,  in  union  with  the  most  holy  ao- 
Uons  and  infinite  merits  of  Jesus  Christ." 


,  •!r^milfS!m-^,,m<r,  -«. .— „,....^„^ 


240 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


The  chapters  on  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick,  the  House  of  Mercy, 
Lay  Sisters,  &c.,  were  entirely  composed  by  the  Foundress,  who  had 
a  remarkable  talent  for  saying  a  great  deal  in  a  few  words.  In 
the  first  section  of  the  Chapter  on  the  Visitation,  she  proposes  the 
example  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  "  has  in  all  ages  of  the  Church  ex- 
cited the  faithful  in  a  particular  manner  to  instruct  and  comfort  the 
sick  and  djing  poor."  In  the  next  she  remarks  that  "  the  miracu- 
lous cur(}c  performed  by  our  Saviour,  and  the  power  of  healing 
granted  to  the  apostles,  erince  His  great  tenderness  for  the  sick," 
and  that  "  the  most  cmiuent  saints  (of  some  of  whom  she  gives  a 
list)  havt  devoted  their  lives  to  this  work  of  mercy."  In  concln« 
Bion,  she  nays  :  "  Such  bright  examples  and  the  great  recompense 
promised,  are  strong  motives  to  encourage  the  Sisters  to  fulfil  with 
fervor  and  delight  every  part  of  this  most  meritorious  duty." 

In  the  third  she  speaks  of  the  interior  dispositions  which  should 
animate  "  those  whom  Jesus  Christ  has  graciously  permitted  to  as- 
sist Him  in  the  pirson  of  His  suffering  poor."  She  then  goes  on 
to  describe  the  aaanner  of  instructing  and  consoling  them,  the 
regulations  to  be  observed,  the  visit  to  be  made  to  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  before  leaving  the  convent  and  on  return,  and  the  graces 
to  be  asked  in  these  visits.  The  eighth  section  contains  the  secret 
of  her  wonderful  success  in  winning  souls  to  God,  for  though  she 
says  that  the  Sisters  must  always  have  spiritual  good  most  in  view, 
still  she  believes  that  this  cannot,  in  general,  be  promoted  but  by 
drawing  poor  huma&  nature  to  it  by  "  the  cords  of  Adam,"  by  un- 
failing and  sincere  kiadness  : — 

"  Great  tenderness  should  bo  employed,  and  when  there  is  not 
immediate  danger  of  death,  it  will  be  well  to  relieve  the  distress 
first,  and  to  endeavor,  by  every  practicable  means,  to  promote  the 
cleanliness,  ease,  and  comfort  of  the  patient ;  since  we  zre  ever 
mo8t  disposed  to  receive  admonition  and  instruction /rom  /AoM 
who  evince  compassion  for  us." 

Kot  a  word  could  be  added  to  this  beautiful  chapter.  Even  the 
very  tone  of  voice  is  [prescribed  :  "  Tlie  Sister  should  speak  in  aa 
easy,  soothing,  impressive  manner,  so  as  not  to  embarrass  or  fatigue 
the  poor  patient." 

In  Lay  Sisters  Mother  McAuley  requires  "  good  consUtatiofl 


-. .1 


LIFK  OF  CATHKBINE  MCAULBT. 


S41 


,e  of  Mercy, 
Bss,  who  had 
words.    In 
proiwses  the 
B  Clmrch  ex- 
l  comfort  the 
"  the  miracor 
er  of  healing 
;or  the  Bick,'» 
tt  she  gives  a 
"    In  conclOi 
at  recompense 
B  to  fulfil  with 
s  duty." 
!  which  should 
ermitted  to  as- 
then  goes  on 
ling  them,  the 
to  the  Blessed 
,  and  the  graces 
itains  the  secret 
for  though  she 
)d  most  in  view, 
romoted  but  by 
:  Adam,"  by  un- 

hen  there  is  not 
ieve  the  distress 
,  to  promote  the 
Ince  we  ere  ever 
ction/rom  thoa* 

lapter.  Even  the 
ould  speak  in  an 
ibarrass  or  fstigoe 

good  constitatloa 


plain  education,  manner,  and  appearance,  suited  to  Religious  who 
must  be  seen  in  public,  "  because,"  says  she,  "  they  ought  to  be 
persons  who  could  occasionally  accompany  the  Choir  Sisters,  with- 
'  '  out  any  remarkable  exterior  diflference."    Speaking  of  Lay  Sisters, 

one  of  her  biographers*  says  : — "  Rererend  Mother  McAuIey  took 
great  pains  to  form  them  to  the  Religious  life,  fully  convinced  that 
they  required  more  instmction  than  those  whose  education  was  of 
a  higher  order,  and  whose  domestic  rearing  was  a  remote  prepara- 
tion for  the  restraints  of  conventual  discipline.  From  their  practi* 
cal  knowledge  of  business  they  were  very  valuable  in  carrying  out 
the  directions  of  the  Choir  Religious  in  the  House  of  Mercy,  as  re- 
garded needlework  and  the  laundry  ;  they  were  also  very  useful  in 
the  extern  department  of  the  House,  which  is  very  extensive  and 
important,  and  which  has  existed  from  the  very  commencement." 

Mother  McAuley  thus  beaatifuUy  concludes  the  chapter  she 
wrote  on  this  subject : 

"The  state  of  Lay  Sisters  is  very  similar  to  that  which  oar 
humble  Redeemer  made  choice  of  in  this  world,  who  dedicattMl 
himself  to  the  service  of  others,  without  ever  requiring  to  bo 
served  Himself.  It  wUl  greatly  animate  them  in  all  their  labors  to 
reflect  that  they  are  working  for  a  heavenly  Master,  who  will  take 
into  account  their  toil  and  pain,  lighten  their  di£BcuUies,  and  most 
generously  reward  every  exertion  they  will  have  made  for  the  love 
of  Him." 

In  August,  1834,  Very  Rev.  James  Rice,f  an  Augnstinian  Friar 
of  much  learning  and  piety,  visited  Baggot^^treet  Honse,  which  we 
will  henccf'  I'th  call  St.  Mary's,  and  being  greatly  pleased  with  the 
manner  in  which  the  works  of  mercy  were  performed  there,  asked 
whether  he  could  be  of  any  assistance  to  the  Institute,  at  Rome, 
whither  he  was  proceeding.  Mother  McAuley  replied  that  she  was 
anxious  to  receive  the  approbation  of  the  Holy  See  for  the  Order, 
but  feared  it  was  too  soon  to  urge  this.  When  the  applicatioa 
was  made,  however.  Father  Rice  used  his  influence  to  sustain  it. 

The  Rule  and  Constitutions  had  already  been  approved  by  his 

*  Mother  Mary  V.  Ilaritiutt. 

t  Very  Sev.  James  Rice  was  brother  to  Edmund  Bioe,  Eaq.,  of  Waterford| 
who  founded  the  Chrietian  Sohoole  Id  Ireland,  1802. 

11 


i 


'i 


am.'' 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  M«AULET. 


Grace  the  Archbishop,  who  affixed  the  following,  with  his  seal,  to 
the  copy  submitted  to  his  inspection  : 

"  We  hereby  approve  of  these  Bales  and  Gon&titntions,  compiled 
(or  composed)  for  the  Religions  Gongrcgaxion  of  Sisters  of  Mercy ; 
and  we  declare  that  it  is  not  onr  intention  that  they  shall  oblige, 
nnder  pain  of  mortal  or  venial  sin,  except  inasmuch  as  the  trans- 
gression of  any  arti«le  may  be  a  violatior  of  the  vows  or  in  itself 
a  sin,  independently  of  the  1    ^es. 

"IhDBLiN,  Jannary  28, 1884." 


"  >|«  D.  Murray,  Archb. 


About  this  time,  the  opposition  to  the  Institute  was  renewed 
with  great  violence,  and  coming  from  parties  worthy  of  respect — 
Priests  and  Religious — was  calculated  not  only  to  deter  postulants 
from  entering  the  Order,  but  tend  to  make  those  unhappy  who  had 
ahready  made  their  vows  in  it.  For,  in  a  country  so  loyal  to  Rome 
as  Ireland  is,  the  report  that  a  religious  body  is  not  approved  by 
Rome,  would  soon  annihilate  that  body.  As  soon  as  Mother  Mc- 
Auley  heard  that  a  certain  Religious  was  circulating  through  the 
city  that  "  there  was  not  a  stroke  of  a  pen  from  Rome  in  favor  of 
the  Sisters  of  Mercy,"  she  became  seriously  alarmed.  It  being 
quite  true  that  her  Institute  had  not  been  formally  approved, 
though  the  Archbishop  had  obtained  permission  for  its  formation, 
in  1829,  she  laid  the  whole  matter  before  him,  and  he  immediately 
applied  to  Rome  for  a  formal  approbation.  To  the  inexpressible 
consolation  of  the  young  community,  this  was  granted  on  the  Feast 
of  the  Finding  of  the  Holy  Cross,  May  3, 1835.  The  Archbishop 
was  urged  to  apply  for  this,  not  by  the  friends,  but  by  the  op- 
ponents of  the  Institute.  So  wonderful  are  the  ways  of  Qtod  I 
With  this  solemn  Approbation,  his  Holiness  Pope  Qregory  XYL 
sent  his  Apostolic  Benediction  to  the  Foundress  and  her  associates. 

Much  of  the  opposition  made  to  newly  founded  Institutes  is 
probably  well  meant,  and,  far  from  iiy'uring  them,  is  of  essential 
service ;  but  were  it  otherwise,  the  ma''ce  of  men  cannot  destroy 
what  the  power  of  God  upholds.  Yet  among  Religious  them* 
selves,  there  ought  surely  to  be  no  misunderstanding,  or  at  least 
no  mutual  censure.    They  have  all  a  common  Father,  God,  and  a 


%MHi 


LIFE  or  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


S4S 


i  his  fleal,  to 


ions,  compiled 
?r8  of  Mercy ; 
'  shall  oblige, 
as  the  tiana- 
rs  or  ia  itself 

lAT,  Archb. 

was  renewed 
f  of  respect — 
iter  postulants 
lappy  who  had 
loyal  to  Borne 
t  approved  by 
18  Mother  Mc- 
g  through  the 
•me  in  favor  of 
led.    It  being 
lally  approved, 
'  its  formation, 
he  immediately 
le  inexpressible 
}d  on  the  Feast 
'he  Archbishop 
but  by  the  op- 
ways  of  God  1 
Gregory  XVI. 
her  associates. 
>d  Institutis  ia 
is  of  essential 
cannot  destroy 
leligious  them* 
ling,  or  at  least 
her,  God,  and  ft 


common  Mother,  the  Church.  They  are  all  equally  spouses  oi 
Jesns  Christ,  and  each  will  take  her  place  for  eternity,  not  accord- 
ing to  the  antiquity  of  the  Order,  for  with  Him  before  whom  a 
thousand  years  are  as  yesterday,  no  Order  is  ancient  and  none  new  ; 
nor  according  to  the  aristocracy  of  her  birtb,  for  vu'tue  is  the  only 
aristocracy  aj.;.reciated  by  God  ;  nor  to  the  veneration  in  wlucl» 
sher  is  held,  for  He  looks  to  the  heart,  and  rewards  the  virtue  wo 
possess,  not  that  which  may  be  falsely  attributed  to  us  ;  nor  to 
her  style  of  habit,  unless,  indeed,  it  covers  a  holy  Religious  ;  nor 
to  the  riches  of  her  house,  for  poverty  is  the  only  wealth  He  prizes 
in  Religion  ; — ^before  Him  we  all  take  our  rank  according  to  our 
individual  perfection  ;  and  it  may  be,  that,  on  the  great  accounting 
day,  "  the  last  shall  be  first  and  the  first  last,  for  many  are  called 
bat  few  are  chosen." 

The  Order  of  Meroy  owes  this  gratitude  to  the  Orders  existing 
in  Ireland  at  the  period  of  its  foundation,  that  they  all  reached  out 
a  helping  hand  towards  it,  and  showed  it  unvarying  kindness  and 
generosity.  The  Pntsentation  Order  bestowed  much  of  its  form 
and  part  of  its  rule  on  the  young  Institute.    The  Ursnlines  eda- 

ted  b  lai-ge  proportion  of  its  subjects,  and  the  Sisters  of  Charity 
gave  it  the  example  of  coming  outside  the  cloister  to  do  good. 
The  Carmelites  and  Poor  Clares  were  unceasing  in  their  kind  atten- 
tions ;  the  Nuns  of  Longhrea,  Newry,  Garlow,  Galway,  and  other 
places,  lavished  the  most  tender  courtesy  on  Mother  McAuley,  when 
foundation  business  brought  her  among  them,  and  extended  their 
hospitality  with  such  graceful  kindness,  that  in  every  instance  they 
persisted  in  regarding  themselves  us  the  obliged  party.  To  this 
day,  the  Order  of  Mercy  owes  some  of  its  best  members  to  the 
ancient  Ursuline  Order,  and  the  modem,  but  not  less  admirable 
Society  of  the.  Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  whoso  pupils,  as  Sis- 
ters of  Mercy,  fail  not  to  diffiise  the  piety  they  imbibed  in  these 
seminaries  of  virtue  and  learning. 

The  opposition  given  tu  her  Institute  by  a  few  Religious,  Mother 
HcAuley  either  forgot,  or  regarded  as  well  meant,  for  towards  the 
end  of  tier  life,  she  wrote  :  "  I  never  knew  an  unkind  Religious  ;" 
bat  had  the  case  beetA  otherwise,  her  gentle  pen  had  refused  to  re* 
cord  her  experience.    When  Priests  opposed  her,  she  always  be* 


I 


.L 


mm 


M 


244 


LIFB  OF  CATHEBIKK  MCAULEY. 


lieved  they  did  so  for  conscience'  sake  ;  eren  the  bitter  end  Bar* 
castic  letters  she  received  on  a  few  occasions,  did  not  lessen  her 
esteem  for  the  sanctity  she  sup]K>sed  the  writers  to  possess.  Hear- 
ing a  norice  one  day  say  something  about  "  a  very  holy  Priest,"  she 
said,  with  a  smile  : 

"  I  hare  known  a  great  many  Priests,  bat  I  never  knew  one  who 
was  not  'very  holy.' "     ,;t!-  s  am  oJir  cJ  si  v^J  sll  im  .L 

The  very  objects  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  natorally  enlisted  the 
sympathy  of  the  clergy ;  for  compassion  towards  the  poor  is  a 
peculiarly  priestly  virtue,  the  precious  oil  of  Aaron  which  perfumes 
the  sacerdotal  character.  The  ancients  speak  of  Priests*  as  men 
whose  tears  were  always  flowing  over  the  miseries  of  humanity  so 
constantly  kept  before  their  eyes.  Mother  McAuley  found  her 
wannest  friends,  but  also  her  most  violent  opponents,  among  the 
clergy.  One  of  the  latter  feared  she  might  interfere  with  the 
Sisters  of  Charity,  either  by  withdrawhig  ladies  whose  vocation 
attracted  them  to  the  same  good  works,  or  by  dividing  the  public 
char'ties  which  they  administered.  Strange  it  did  not  occur  to 
him  that  there  is,  and,  so  far  as  we  know,  ever  will  be,  more  sorrow 
and  misery  in  this  poor  world  than  Charityf  and  Mercy,  in  nil  their 
human  embodiments,  will  ever  be  able  fully  to  relieve. 


*  Formerly  Priests  wore  a  cloth  by  thoir  side,  to  dry  the  tears  they  were  sup* 
posed  to  shed  so  frequently  over  tlie  sorrows  of  poor,  Ikllen  nature.  It  was 
called  Mappula,  and  was  the  predecessor  of  the  modern  ManipU.  See  Vtn. 
St(U,  &o. 

t  When  we  speak  uf  the  "  Si$terto/CharUp"  we  always  mean  those  founded  by 
Miss  Aikenhead  in  Dublin,  not  the  Congregation  founded  by  St.  Vincent,  whioh 
is  more  correctly  styled,  "  Of  the  Daughters  (FUIm)  of  Charity."  A  large  paint- 
ing in  the  fine  Hospital,  Stephen's  Green,  Dublin,  will  have  made  hundreds 
familiar  with  the  physical  features  of  Hiss  Aikenhead.  Her  soft  brown  ayea, 
and  the  warm  tints  of  her  complexion,  seem  to  belong  to  a  more  southern  dims, 
and  half  disguised  as  the  figure  iawith  the  picturesque  dresaof  her  Society,  the 
beauty  of  the  picture  will  interest  in  the  original,  those  who  see  it.  It  repre- 
sents the  Reception  of  Sir  Michael  Bellew'S  daughter,  who  became  a  Sister  of 
Charity  several  years  ago.  Many  types  of  beauty  are  seen  in  the  group.  The 
apostolic  sweetness  of  Archbishop  Murray's  venerable  countenance  contrasts 
finely  with  the  fresh  beauty  of  the  kneeling  postulante,  who  does  not  appear 
to  have  seen  eighteen  summers,  and  might  welt  form  the  subject  and  inspira- 
tion of  Gerald  Orlflin's  well-known  lines  on  •■  7%«  Sitter  qf  Oharity."  "  Her 
vesture,  blended  of  silk  and  of  gold,    foruu  a  oontnwt  to  the  ooarse  bUok  utg% 


ittcr  and  sar* 
ot  lessen  her 
088688.  near- 
ly Priest,"  she 

knew  one  who 

[ly  enlisted  the 
the  poor  is  a 
rhich  perfnmes 
'ricsts*  as  men 
)f  hnmanity  so 
iiley  foand  her 
ats,  among  the 
irfere  with  the 
whose  vocation 
ling  the  public 
1  not  occur  to 
H),  more  sorrow 
srcy,  in  all  their 


ire  thejr  were  eup- 
n  nature.  It  was 
laniplt.    See  Vttt, 

n  those  founded  bj 
St.  Vincent,  whioh 
jr."  A  large  paiot- 
;t  made  hundreds 
r  soft  brown  ayot, 
ore  southern  dime, 
of  her  Society,  tba 
0  see  it.  It  repre- 
beoamo  a  Sister  of 
in  the  group.  The 
iintenanoo  oontrasts 
10  does  not  appear 
ubjcct  and  inspira- 
'  Oharity."  "  Her 
s  coarse  black  sarg* 


g*BJi;r-H,; 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIlTi:  MCATTLET. 


245 


To  a  lady  desirous  of  joining  the  In«titute  in  1833,  Mother 
McAnley  wrote  the  following  graphic  detail  of  the  daily  duties  : 

"  Office  and  Meditation  over  by  seven.  Mass  at  a  quarter  past 
seven — over  by  eight.  Breakfast  at  a  quarter  past  eight.  After 
breakfast,  the  Sisters  attend  to  their  different  employments  until 
nine,  when  we  have  public  lecture  for  all.  At  half-past  nine,  the 
Sisters  appointed  to  visit  the  sick  prepare  to  go  out  ;  those  in 
charge  of  the  schools,  prepare  for  them.  The  Sister  who  super- 
intends the  extern  distressed  persons,  takes  her  place  in  the  work- 
room. Reverend  Mother  or  a  senior  Sister  remains  in  an 
adjoining  room,  to  receive  and  answer  applications.  At  a  quarter 
to  twelve,  we  again  assemble  in  choir  for  particular  examen. 
At  twelve,  Angelus,  Acts  of  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity,.  Litany 
of  Jesus  ;  after  which  we  resume  our  employments.  Those  who 
went  out  first  have  now  returned  ;  others  go  out,  who  return  after 
three.  Dinner  for  the  House  of  Mercy  at  three.  Our  dinner  at 
four,  after  which  recreation  in  community-room;  but  as  the  Sisters 
who  read  and  attend  table,  and  the  Lay  Sisters,  have  yet  to  dine, 
it  is  not  called  general  recreation.  At  fiv  Vespers  in  choir,  after 
which  Lecture  till  six,  then  Angelus,  M".  s  and  Lands,  etc.  At 
a  quarter  to  seven,  visit ;  then  tea ;  afterwards  general  recreation 
till  nine  :  and  you  never  saw  such  a  happy  and  merry  party,  nor 
ever  will,  except  in  a  Keligious  community. 

"At  nine,  general  examen.  Litany  of  the  Saints,  morning  medita- 
tion prepared,  then  to  rest. 

"  This  one  day  is  our  whole  life.  You  might  suppose  the  daily 
and  uninterrupted  repetition  of  the  same  duties  would  prove  tire- 
some :  it  is  not  so;  the  Religious  life  affords  more  lively,  solid,  and 
lasting  happiness  than  all  the  variety  the  world  could  give." 

of  Mother  Aikenhead,  as  do  her  jewels  with  the  brass  ornolflx  which  rests  oc 
the  bosom  of  the  ssme  venerable  personage.  Miss  Bellew  was  professed  in  the 
Congregation,  but  was  called  to  her  reward  soon  after. 

*  The  above  oontnins  all  the  spiritual  exercises  daily  made  in  coinm  on  (unless 
at  special  times,  as  Lent),  except  five  Paters  and  Aves,  and  the  Litany  o  f  the 
Blessed  Virgin  alter  Vespers,  said  daily,  by  Mother  McAuley's  regulation,  for 
the  Bishop  and  Clergy  of  the  diocese ;  the  Litany  for  a  Happy  Death,  or  for  the 
Dead,  said  afler  Matins.  The  Rosary  is  said  in  private.  A  visit  to  the  Bles««d 
Baorament  precedes  each  duty. 


? 


■| 


/ 


S4d 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  HCAULEY. 


Some  years  later,  a  Priest  desiroas  of  having  an  account  of  the 
rise  of  the  Institate  from  the  Foandress  herself,  designing  to  embody 
it  in  a  sermon  which  he  engoged  to  preach  at  a  Profession,  com- 
missioned the  Superioress  of  the  Convent  of  Mercy,  Liuiericlc,  to 
npply  for  it.     The  reply  of  Mother  McAaley  is  very  characteristic : 

"  I  would  find  it  very  di£Bcalt  to  do  what  Bev.  Mr.  G seems 

to  require ;  the  circumstances  which  would  make  it  interesting 
could  never  be  introduced  in  a  public  discourse.  It  commenced 
with  two,  Sister  Doyle  and  myself.  The  plan  from  the  beginning 
was  such  as  is  now  in  practice.  In  1827  the  house  w»s  opened. 
In  a  year  and  a  half  we  were  joined  by  .'iuch  numbers  that  it  be- 
came a  matter  of  general  wonder.  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Murray  gave 
us  most  cordial  approbation  and  frequently  visited  us.  AH  was 
done  under  his  direction,  from  the  time  we  entered  the  HouFe,  which 
had  been  erected  for  the  purpose  of  charity.  Very  Rev.  Drs. 
Blake  and  Armstrong  were  the  persons  chiefly  concerned  ;  they 
received  all  the  ideas  I  had  formed,  and  consulted  together  for  at 
least  two  years,  before  the  House  was  built.  I  am  sure  Dr.  Blake 
had  it  constantly  before  him  in  all  his  communications  with  Heaven, 
for  I  never  can  forget  his  fervent  prayers  while  it  was  in  progress. 

"  Seeing  our  number  increase  so  rapidly,  anxiety  was  expressed  to 
try  and  give  the  House  stability.  We  who  began,  prepared  to  do 
whatever  was  recommended  by  authority,  and  in  September,  1830, 
we  went,  with  dear  Sister  Harley,  to  Qcorge's  Hill,  to  serve  a  novi- 
tiate for  the  purpose  of  formally  establishing  it.  • 

"  In  December,  1831,  wo  returned,  and  the  progress  has  continued 
as  you  know.  We  are  now  (1838)  above  one  hundred  in  number, 
and  the  desire  to  join  us  seems  rather  on  the  increase.  Though  it 
was  thought  foundations  would  retard  it,  the  case  appears  to  be 
quite  otherwise.  There  has  been  a  most  marked  providential  gui- 
dance, which  the  want  of  prudence,  vigilance,  and  judgment  has  no  t 
impeded  ;  and  it  is  here  that  we  can  clearly  see  the  designs  of  God. 
I  could  mark  circumstances  calculated  to  defeat  us  at  once,  but  no- 
thing, however  injurious  in  itself,  has  done  us  any  damage.  The  loss 
of  property  has  been  supplied  ;  the  deaths  of  the  most  valuable 
Sisters  have  passed  away  as  of  no  consequence  ;  the  alarm  spread 
abroad  by  such  frequent  deaths  did  not  prevent  others  crowding 


icconnt  of  the 
ling  to  embody 
rofcssion,  com- 
',  Liuierick,  to 
characteristic : 

'.  C seems 

)  it  interesting 
It  commenced 
the  beginning 
36  w»3  opened, 
ers  that  it  be- 
r.  Murray  gave 
i  us.  An  was 
e  Houpe,  which 
^ery  Rev.  Drs. 
nccmed  ;  they 
together  for  at 
Bare  Dr.  Blake 
\B  with  Heaven, 
ras  in  progress, 
as  expressed  to 
prepared  to  do 
ptember,  1830, 
to  serve  a  novi- 

B8  has  continued 
dred  in  number, 
ise.  Though  it 
)  appears  to  be 
)rovldential  gui- 
Jgmcnt  has  no  t 
designs  of  Qod. 
at  once,  but  no- 
inage.  The  loss 
e  roost  valuable 
he  alarm  spread 
others  crowding 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


247 


in  ;  in  short,  it  evidently  toas  to  go  ua  and  surmount  all  obstacles, 
many  of  which  were  great  indeed,  and  proceeding  from  causes 
within  as  well  as  without.  One  thing  is  remarkable,  that  no 
breach  of  charity  ever  occurred  among  us.  The  sun  never,  I  be- 
lieve, went  down  upon  our  anger.  Tliis  a  our  only  boast ;  others 
wise  w<»  have  been  deficient  enough,  and  far,  very  far  from 
co-operating  generously  with  Ood.  But  we  will  try  to  do  better 
in  future,  all  of  us, — the  blach-heada  *  will  strive  to  repaur  the 
past,  please  God." 

Thus,  she  always  said  as  little  as  possible  of  herself,  and  strove 
to  attribute  to  others  a  share  of  the  merits  of  her  own  works. 
Like  the  soul  which  is  hidden,  though  it  animates  the  whole 
body,  she  was  present  to  aid  in  every  emergency;  but  though  she 
presided  more  or  less  in  every  department,  she  referred  the  credit 
of  all,  to  the  Sisters  in  charge  of  each. 

*  The  Professed  Sisters. 


n. 


i 


/ 


"  CHAPTER  XXV. 

"  Little  Catherine."— Oonero»ity  of  the  Fonnclregs.— The  I^ord  Bishop  of  Dro- 
more.— Chief  events  of  his  life.— His  connection  with  the  Foundress.— His 
love  for  the  Institnte. 

IMMEDIATELY  after  Mtiry  Teresa's  decease,  her  only  sister, 
Catherine,  then  in  her  sixteenth  year,  expressed  her  intention 
of  becoming  a  Sister  of  Mercy.     She  had  lived  in  the  con- 
vent from  the  time  of  her  father's  death,  but  was  now  anxions 
to  be  a  member  of  the  community.     Her  uncle,  who  was  also  her 
guardian,  would  not  hear  of  this.     Not  appreciating  the  spirit  of 
charity  which  prompted  her  sacrifice,  and  wishing  to  test  her  sin- 
cerity, he  insisted  that  she  should  spend  at  least  a  year  at  his 
house,  in  which  arrangement  Reverend  Mother  at  once  acquiesced. 
He  felt  sure  that  estrangement  from  her  aunt,  and  a  closer  view  of 
the  attractions  of  the  gay  world,  might  induce  her  to  abandon  a 
resolution  which  he  fancied  had  been  adopted  in  a  moment  of  un- 
reflecting enthusiasm.     As  she  was  of  a  very  lively  disposition,  she 
enjoyed  herself  highly  in  society,  and  made  every  one  about  her 
happy  ;  but  neither  his  reasoning  nor  the  fascinations  of  brilliant 
society  could  alter  her  determination,  and  when  the  year  expired 
she  asked  leave  to  return  to  St.  Mary's.    The  doctor  was  greatly 
annoyed  ;  he  cast  the  whole  blame,  if  blame  there  were,  on  his 
sister.    •'  She  had  used  her  influence  unduly  ;  she  had  bewitched 
the  child.    It  was  cruel  to  induce  their  niece  to  take  a  step  which 
she  might  hereafter  bitterly  repent."     Old  sores  were  opened.     A 
disagreeable  scene  was  enacted.    Though  an  estimable  man  in  many 
respects.  Dr.  McAuley  was,  or  affected  to  be,  totally  incapable  of 
appreciating  the  motives  of  the  illustrious  woman  whose  heroic  vir- 
tues were  casting  a  halo  round  his  name.    Little  Catherine  entered 
in  1834,  and  assumed  the  name  of  Mary  Agnes.    Like  her  aunt, 


'Pi'Wl  ii'ii'^ 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAULEY. 


249 


Bishop  of  Dro> 
Foundress.— Hia 


er  only  sister, 
1  her  intention 
d  in  the  con- 
8  now  anxions 
>  was  also  her 
5  the  spirit  of 

0  test  her  sin- 
a  year  at  his 

Dce  acquiesced. 

1  closer  view  of 
to  abandon  a 

oaoment  of  un- 
disposition,  she 
one  about  her 
ana  of  brilliant 
e  year  expired 
or  was  greatly 
•e  were,  on  his 
had  bewitched 
ce  a  step  which 
sre  opened.  A 
)le  man  in  many 
ly  incapable  of 
hose  heroic  vir- 
theriiie  entered 
Like  her  aunt, 


she  was  a  model  of  charity.  Cleansing  poor  neglected  orphans, 
and  performing  for  them  the  meanest  offices,  were  her  favorite  oo- 
cnpations.  Though  not  possessed  of  the  beauty  and  high  ictelleo* 
taal  endowments  of  her  fan:  sister,  she  was  exceedingly  beloved  for 
her  gentleness,  gayety,  and  devotion  to  the  poor.  Mother  McAo- 
ley  usually  calls  her  "  My  innocent,  playful  Catherine." 
.  The  same  year,  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of  Mr.  Callahan's,  applied 
to  the  heiress  for  a  loan  to  retrieve  his  shattered  fortunes.  "  How 
much  do  you  require  ?"  said  she.     v  •*  i 

Mr.  P.  was  silent.  *•  Your  wife  and  children,"  8h«5  continued, 
"want  many  things  (for  she  knew  they  were  living,  or  rather 
starving  in  a  grand  house).  Here  are  five  hundred  pounds,  but 
remember  all  I  have  belongs  to  the  poor.  I  will  trust  you  to  re- 
pay me." 

In  this  instance  her  hopes  were  disappointed.  The  ruling  pas- 
sion soon  made  a  dead  set  on  this  unfortunate  man  ;  wife,  children, 
and  benefactress  were  forgotten  at  the  gambi<ng-table.  He  sat 
down  to  increase  his  store  ;  he  stood  up  a  beggar.  The  Sister  of 
Mercy  instantly  revenged  herself  by  proridinj;  for  his  helpless 
fomily.  "  Throw  stones  at  a  beautiful  tree,"  says  an  Eastern  poet, 
"  and  in  return  it  will  shower  on  you  fruits  and  flowers." 

In  1833,  Mother  McAuley's  revered  friend.  Dr.  Blake,  was 
raised  to  the  episcopate.  This,  a  great  gain  for  the  Cbnrch  of 
Dromore,  was  a  serious  loss  to  her.  His  countenance  and  support 
were  a  protection  to  the  Institute,  because  he  deservedly  bore  the 
reputation  of  a  saint.  She  was  guided  chiefly  by  bis  counsel,  and 
he  often  supplied  her  with  means  to  carry  out  her  charitable  plans. 
As  this  esteemed  prelate  was  by  far  the  best  friend  the  rising  Or- 
der had,  a  glance  at  the  principal  events  ol  his  life  will  not  be  out 
of  place  here. 

We  begin  by  an  anecdote  which  Cardinal  Wiseman  gives  of 
him  :  "  Now  that  Dr.  Blake  has  gone  to  receive  tho  reward  his 
amiable  virtues  deserved,  and  that  all  delicacy  in  what  reflects 
honor  on  him  is  removed,  I  may  relate  here  what  I  heard  from  him- 
self of  his  early  career.  When  a  student  at  Rome,  he  said,  he  was 
considered  remarkably  slow  and  dull.  This  was  partially  owing  to 
very  great  indistinctness  in  his  speech,  accompanied  by  stammering. 

11* 


1 


..„:J 


tm 


■Baail 


250 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINB  MCAULET. 


On  one  occasion,  rentaring  to  interpose  his  opinion  in  some  discns* 
sion  among  his  comrades,  one  of  them  nidely  interrupted  him, 
saying  :  *  What  business  have  yon  to  speak^  who  are  the  dunce  of 
the  college  ?'  The  wound  was  smarting,  but  salutary.  The  meek 
boy  made  no  reply,  but  retired  heartsore  into  solitude.  He  re- 
flected on  what  had  been  publicly  said  to  him,  without  rebuke  from 
any  one,  and  with  the  silent  concurrence  of  all.  Yes,  that  was  his 
character  among  them,  that  the  opinion  even  of  the  kindest  of  his 
friends.  If  they  had  not  told  him  of  it,  one  had  let  it  out  to  him. 
To  this  rough  monitor  he  ought  to  be  thankful  for  telling  him  the 
truth.  And  now,  what  was  tt  be  done  ?  The  reproach  must  be 
wiped  away,  the  character  reversed.  Its  causes,  real  or  imaginary, 
must  be  cured  at  any  cost.  This  roost  be  the  unremitting  task  of 
his  school-life. 

"  He  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper,  '  the  dunce  of  the  colleoe,'  in 
plain,  anmistakable  letters,  and  placed  it  on  his  desk,  where,  nnseen 
by  others,  it  should  ever  be  before  his  eyes.  During  the  regular 
hours  of  application,  there  it  was  ;  at  times  of  extra  study,  while 
others  were  at  recreation,  this  stinging  goad  was  at  his  side.  He 
adopted  a  slow  and  deliberate  utterance,  which  accompanied  him 
through  life,  but  which  perfectly  remedied  his  original  defect.  He 
soon  rose  honorably  both  in  hb  class  and  in  the  estimation  of  his 
Bchool-f'llo'vs — those  severest  but  most  accurate  of  judges — who, 
Iiowevcr,  knew  not  of  the  spell  that  formed  the  secret  of  his  suc- 
cess, Au(j  so  he  passed  through  all  the  honored  degrees  of  his 
s&cred  profession  to  its  hi;^!:hest  attainable  dignity."* 

Shortly  after  his  returu  to  Ireland,  Dr.  Blake  was  appointed 
parish  priest  of  SS.  Michael's  and  John's,  Dublin.  In  1814  he 
headed  the  regular  and  secular  clergy  of  Dublin  diocese,  who  pro- 
tested against  the  famous  rescript  of  Monsignor  Qnarrantotti,f 

*  "  Bocolleotions  of  the  Four  Lnst  Popes." 

t  Tbia  prelate,  apon  whom  an  oflScial  position  devolved  while  His  HolineM 
Pope  Pius  VII.  wtts  a  prisoner  in  France,  addressed  to  Dr.  Poynter,  Vicar 
Apostolic  of  London  district,  a  rescript  commendatory  of  the  bill  which  pro* 
posed  to  give  the  sovereign  of  England  a  voice  in  the  election  of  bishops,  &o. 
Against,  *''is  the  whole  hierarchy  of  Ireland  remonstrated.  After  much  discas- 
:iion  »md  oscitement,  the  Pope  ordered  Cardinal  Consalvi  to  draw  up  an  ex- 
planatory reacript,  ar*'  reraoved  Monsignor  t  om  his  official  poat. 


m^—^'-'  I  ,^1       - 


in  some  discas* 
terrupted  him, 
ire  the  dunce  of 
iry.  The  meek 
litude.  He  re- 
out  rebuke  from 
cs,  that  was  his 
e  kindest  of  his 
F>t  it  out  to  him. 
telling  him  the 
proach  must  be 
sal  or  imaginary, 
emitting  task  of 

rHB  COLLEGE,'  in 
k,  where,  unseen 
iring  the  regular 
:tra  study,  while 
it  his  side.  He 
iccompanied  him 
inal  defect.  He 
'stimation  of  his 
of  judges— who, 
lecret  of  his  suc- 
d  degrees  of  his 

e  was  appointed 
in.  In  1814  he 
diocese,  who  pro- 
ir  Quarrantotti,t 

while  His  HolincM 
Dr.  Poyriter,  Vicar 

f  tlje  bill  which  pro- 

jtion  of  bishops,  &0. 
After  much  discus- 

ri  to  draw  up  an  e»- 

al  post. 


,  LIF£  OF  CATHEEINE  ItCAULET. 


251 


which  they  pronounced  "  entirely  non-obligatory  upon  the  Catholic 
Church  in  Ireland."  In  1825  he  was  summoned  to  Rome  to  re- 
store the  Irish  College,  which  had  been  suppressed  during  the 
French  occupation  of  Rome,  and  then  incorporated  with  the  Col* 
lege  of  the  Propaganda.  Having  successfblly  accomplished  thi?, 
he  was  recalled  to  Dublin  in  1828,  and  became  parish  priest  of 
St,  Andrew's,  Westland  Row,  to  which  district  St.  Mary's  be- 
longed. He  commenced  the  spacious  church  which  now  adorns 
that  locality,  and  which  was  still  unfinished  in  1833,  when  he  was 
raised  to  the  See  of  Dromore.       •,'-^i^  '= ';  i  £  w>  <  j  is^ix 

Nothing  could  exceed  his  kindness  to  the  Institute.  He  ob- 
tained of  the  Archbishop  that  an  annual  sermon  should  be  preached 
in  his  church  in  aid  of  its  charities.  As  Vicar-General  he  acceded 
to  every  arrangement  that  Mother  McAuley  proposed  for  the  spir- 
itual direction  of  the  various  departments  of  her  Institute. 

His  opinions  of  the  Foundress  will  be  more  worthy  of  credit 
when  we  add,  that  he  was  most  cautions  to  avoid  the  least  exag- 
geration ;  and,  if  he  carried  any  virtue  to  excess,  it  was  exactness 
in  this  particular.  His  ideas  of  the  sanctity  of  God  and  the  cor- 
ruption of  poor  human  nature,  were  such  as  led  him  to  incline  to 
the  opinion  that  no  Saint  save  the  sinless  Mother  of  Jesus,  had  ever 
been  admitted  to  the  Beatific  Yision,  without  at  least  passmg 
through  Purgatory.  In  him,  ardent  love  of  God  was  mingled  with 
an  intense  fear  of  His  inscrutable  judgments,  which  cansed  a  horror 
of  the  most  trivial  imperfections.  His  charity  to  the  poor  soon 
beggared  him.  Persons  often  gave  him  large  sums  of  money  with- 
out directing  how  they  were  to  be  disposed  of.  Thus,  if  it  some- 
times happened  that  he  was  a  rich  man  in  the  morning,  evening 
was  sure  to  find  him  without  a  shilling.  He  frequently  gave  large 
alms  to  thp  Institute  ;  and,  when  the  Sisters  would  attempt  to 
make  some  acknowledgment,  he  would  always  playfully  turn  off 
the  subject,  saying  :  "  You  save  me  a  great  deal  of  trouble  ;  be- 
sides, you  can  make  a  better  use  of  money  than  I."  His  amiability 
and  gentlenoss  accompanied  him  till  death  ;  but  he  retained  no 
traces  of  the  dunce  of  the  school.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  as 
eminent  for  learning  as  he  was  for  sanctity.    In  1832,  he  delivered 


mm 


hid'.:    «     'U*« 


252 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


a  splendid  coarse  of  Lenten  sermons ;  and,  though  he  had  com- 
menced the  erection  of  his  church  in  Wcstland  Row,  and  had  some 
diflBculty  in  inducing  Iiis  parishion«;rs  to  co-operata  with  him,  ho 
sent  the  whole  proceeds  of  them  to  the  Sisters  for  distribution. 
But  Mother  McAuIey  having  learned  that  this  caused  murmuring 
among  the  perhons  who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  recei\'igthe 
offerings  made  at  previous  Lenten  sermons,  and  who,  though  poor, 
were  not  altogether  the  class  whom  the  Sisters  would  select  as  the 
recipients  of  such  alms,  declined  to  distribute  them,  thinking  that 
it  was  better  to  do  a  little  good  in  peace,  than  a  great  deal  at  the 
cost  of  a  little  disturbance. 

As  spiritual  director  to  Catherine,  Dr.  Blake  seems  rather  to 
hare  kept  behind  his  illustrious  penitent  to  prevent  a  stumble,  than 
gone  before  her  to  beckon  her  onward.  When  first  she  consulted 
him,  slie  not  only  had  no  idea  of  becoming  a  Religious,  but  a  posi- 
tive objection  to  such  a  step.  We  have  seen  how  she  became  one, 
and  we  shall  soon  see  how  she  attracted  hundreds  to  follow  her 
example.  Even  after  his  elevation  to  the  bishopric  of  Dromore,  he 
continued  her  faithful  friend,  adviser,  and  consoler  ;  and  no  affair 
of  moment  was  undertaken  at  St.  Mary's  without  the  approbation 
of  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Drou'ore,  who,  notwithstanding  his  high  and 
arduous  avocations,  found  time  to  counsel  and  befriend  his  spiritual 
daughter,  whom  he  regarded  us  the  second  among  his  country- 
women— St.  Bridget  being  the  first.  The  mutual  affection  of  these 
two  great  souls  never  waned,  each  revered  the  other  as  a  saint, 
and  their  love  was  thoroughly  in  God  and  for  God.  Before  his 
departure  to  a  brighter  world,  "  the  Angel  of  the  Church  of"  Dro- 
more had  the  consolation  of  founding  a  Convent  of  Mercy  near  his 
residence  in  Newry.  He  always  regarded  the  members  of  the 
whole  Order  as  his  children,  and  never  came  among  them  anywhere 
without  reminding  them  of  the  sublime  virtues  of  thek  Foundress. 
"  Ah,"  he  would  S8.y,  "  what  do  any  of  us  do  in  comparison  with 
what  sde  did?  The  all-cousuming  love  of  Jesus  burned  in  her 
breast,  and  no  one  could  approach  her  without  catching  some 
sparks.  She  turned  to  account  every  grace,  every  opportunity  of 
doing  good.    Alas  I  she  left  us  too  soon  ;  but  God's  holy  will  be 


he  bad  com- 
md  had  some 
with  liim,  he 
r  distribution, 
d  murmuring 
recei\'  ig  the 
though  poor, 
.  select  as  the 
thinking  that 
it  deal  at  the 

ims  rather  to 
stumble,  than 
she  consulted 
us,  but  a  posi- 
e  became  one, 
to  follow  her 
f  Dromore,  he 
and  no  affair 
e  approbation 
;  his  high  and 
id  his  spiritual 
f  his  country- 
ection  of  these 
her  as  a  saint, 
1.     Before  his 
urch  of"  Dro- 
tf  ercy  near  his 
ambers  of  the 
;hem  anywhere 
eu*  Foundress, 
imparison  with 
burned  in  her 
catching  some 
opportuaity  of 
I's  holy  will  be 


«»•■■• ')(..l«.UIill.i  . «ll«i»t«»llHH. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


258 


ever  adored !  May  we  profit  of  her  example  stOl  firesh  before  oar 
minds,  and  be  grateful  for  the  favors  He  has  so  lavishly  conferred 
on  us  through  her." 

Bishop  Blake  survived  the  Foundress  nearly  twenty  yeavs,  and 
was  succeeded  by  a  prelate  hardly  less  friendly  to  the  Order  of 
Mercy,  Right  B«v.  John  Pins  Leahy,  0.  P.,  late  of  St.  Mary'a 
Priory,  Cork. 


■i'MA  .  I, 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Vlrtuen  of  the  Foundress. — Fnith. — Hope.— Cliarity. — Prudence. — Juitioe.— 
Fortitude.— Temperance.— Humility.— Obedience.— Chastity.— Poverty.— De- 
votion to  the  F'lesiied  Sacrament. — Anecdotes. 

BEFORE  speaking  of  the  foundations  which  St.  Mary's  com- 
menced to  send  out  in  1834,  we  will  glance  at  the  virtues 
conspicuous  in  the  Foundress ;  and,  first,  at  her  faith,  a  virtue 
without  which  no  other  virtue  can  exist  in  the  soul  in  a  super- 
natural manner.  All  we  have  related  shows  in  how  high  a  degree 
she  possessed  this  virtue.  With  immense  obstacles,  and  at  great 
risks,  she  openly  practised  the  Catholic  faith  as  soon  as  it  was 
possible  for  her  to  be  instructed  in  it ;  and  we  have  seen  how  ear- 
nestly she  strove,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  to  extend  that  bless- 
ing to  those  who  possessed  it  not,  to  preserve  it  in  suc'i  as  had  the 
privilege  of  being  baptized  in  it,  and  to  induce  all  whom  she  could 
influence  to  value  that  precious  treasure  as  the  greatest  of  Qod's 
gifts.  Her  life  wis  but  a  continual  effort  to  increase  the  house- 
hold of  that  Faith,  to  instruct  the  ignorant  in  its  sublime  mysteries, 
and  to  serve  the  poor  through  that  motive  of  faith  which  caused 
her  to  see  Jesus  Christ  in  His  suffering  members,  who  are  His  more 
special  representatives. 

The  theological  virtue  of  hope  was  always  con'<picuou8  in  Cath- 
erine. In  childhood,  it  taught  her  to  expect  of  God  direction  ii 
her  doubts,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  true  path  to  heaven.  Through 
hope,  she  was  willing  to  renounce  all  things  to  practise  her  faith. 
Through  hope,  she  scorned  the  many  brilliant  alliances  offered  her, 
and  devoted  herself  unreservedly  to  Him  who  has  made  such  glo- 
rious promises  to  those  who  choose  Him  for  their  portion.  Hope 
enabled  her  to  part  cheerfully  with  all  she  held  dear  ;  it  inspired 
her  with  courage  to  undertake  the  most  arduous  enterprises  ;  it 
suBtaioed  her  in  her  trials,  and  taught  her  to  take  np  generously 


.«..  -.u_ 


c«. — Juilioe.— 
-Poverty.— De- 


Mary's  com- 
;  the  virtues 
itii,  a  Tirtae 
il  in  a  snper- 
ligh  a  degree 
and  at  great 
)n  as  it  was 
seen  how  ear- 
id  that  bless- 
''i  aa  had  the 
om  she  could 
est  of  God's 
se  the  house- 
me  mysteries, 
which  caused 
&re  His  more 

lous  in  Cath- 

direction  iit 

Through 

se  her  faith. 

offered  her, 

ade  such  glo- 

tion.     Hope 

it  inspired 

terprises ;  it 

ip  generously 


the  heaviest  crosses.  It  gave  joy  to  her  heart  and  serenity  to  her 
countenance  ;  it  made  her  long  to  be  with  Christ,  and,  in  her  dying 
moments,  it  infused  such  a  foretaste  of  coming  beatitude,  that, 
habitually  reserved  as  she  was  concerning  the  sublime  operations 
of  grace  in  her  soul,  she  could  not  forbear  exclaiming  several 
times  :  "  Oh,  if  this  be  death,  how  could  I  have  ever  feared  it  I" 

Charity,  the  greatest  of  virtues,  th«  only  one  we  shall  retain  iu 
•  heaven,  consists  in  loving  Qod  above  all  things,  and  our  neighbor 
for  His  sake.  This  virtue  induced  Catherine  to  devote  herself  to 
works  of  mercy  from  her  childhood,  to  abhor  the  very  shadow  of 
deliberate  sin,  and  to  teach  all  whom  she  could  attract  within  the 
sphere  of  her  influence,  to  love  that  Supreme  Being  to  whom  she 
was  entirely  devoted.  This  divine  love  which  burned  within  her 
caused  her  to  remain  long  rapt  in  profound  contemplation  of  the 
Eternal  Lover  of  her  soul.  And  because  her  arduous  duties  hin- 
dered her  from  applying  as  she  wished  to  this  heavenly  exercise, 
she  often  rose  from  her  bed*  when  sleep  was  sweetest,  and  pre- 
vented the  sun  to  bless  God,  while  her  companions  still  slumbered 
It  was  this  same  love  that  imprinted  on  her  countenance,  while  in 
choir,  or  engaged  in  any  duty  which  had  more  durect  reference  to 
God,  an  expression  of  devotion  and  reverence  which  struck  the 
most  casual  observer. 

Love  urges  us  to  procure  the  glory  of  God  ;  love  will  not  per 
mit  us  to  be  indifferent  to  the  spiritual  or  even  temporal  prosperity 
of  our  neighbors.  Catherine,  far  fh)m  being  deficient  in  that  zeal 
which  is  not  merely  an  accompaniment,  but  an  integral  part  of 
sanctity,  burned  with  an  ever-increasing  desire  for  the  salvation  of 
souls.  Long  and  earnestly  did  she  pray  for  the  glory  and  exten- 
sion of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  the  perfection  of  those  com- 

*  *■  One  of-  the  Sisten  used  to  undertake  the  roBponHibillty  of  awaking  the 
othem;  and  tometimea,  in  the  dark  mornings,  mistaking  the  hour,  she  used 
to  call  tliem  at  tliroe  instead  of  fDiir,  na  had  been  agreed  on.  To  this,  Catherine 
fult  no  ohjootiun  an  regarded  horaelf— tlie  only  privilege  she  ever  sought  among 
the  Sisters  was  to  be  permitted  to  rise  earlier  and  work  ntore.  Un  thpse  oooa- 
Bions,  she  would,  instead  of  retiring  to  rest  again,  omp.oy  herself  lu  prayoi',  to 
'  nourish  her  soul  ngninst  the  day's  requirements ;  and,  if  she  found  any  of  the 
Bisters  staying  up  too,  slio  would  engage  them  to  j(  in  her.  This  happened 
ytry  oiUn."— Marl)/ Dayt  qf  St.  Jfary'$.    Mothtr  Mary  V.  harlntU. 


V 


256 


LIFB  OF  CATHERIKB  MOAULET. 


mitted  to  her  care,  the  conversion  of  sinners,  and  the  relief  ot 
sonls  in  pnrgaiorj.  That  the  Sisters  might  not  forget  their  doty 
of  interceding,  as  it  were,  between  God  and  sinners,  she  ordains  in 
the  Rules,  that  even  the  novices  be  directed  "  to  pray  ccutinoally 
for  the  intentions  of  the  H0I7  Father  and  the  propagation  of  the 
Faith,  and  frequently  to  offer  up  Mass  and  Holy  Communion  for 
these  intentions."  Her  zeal  for  the  spiritual  advancement  of  the 
Sisters  was  boundless.  She  often  expatiated  on  the  perfection 
peculiar  to  the  Institute,  in  whose  members  she  desired  to  see 
united  the  contemplative  lives  of  the  Carmelites  with  the  active 
zeal  of  a  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.  "Religious  Houses,"  lio  would 
say,  "especially  those  founded  for  the  service  of  tliu  neighbor, 
ought  to  be  so  many  magnets  to  attract  all  hearts  to  Jesus  Christ." 

Some  houses  were  slow  in  receiving  subjects  of  great  beauty  or 
talent,  lest  they  should  not  be  easily  governed  ;  but  Mother  Mc- 
Auley  was  always  glad  to  admit  beautiful  or  learned  ladies,  judg^ 
ing  that  the  most  lovely  are  not  too  lovely  for  Qod,  and  that  the 
more  learned  they  were,  the  better  they  could  draw  souls  to  Him, 
if,  to  their  varied  acquu^ments,  they  would  consent  to  add  the 
beautiful  lesson  of  our  Redeemer  :  "  Learn  of  Me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  humble  of  heart."  Experience  has  proved  that  persons  of 
more  than  average  literary  ability  are  generally  the  most  humble 
and  submissive  ;  and  when  a  little  trouble  does  occur  in  Religion, 
it  usually  originates  among  the  most  illiterate  and  least  pious. 

When  the  Archbishop  paid  his  Christmas  visit  to  the  community, 
in  1836,  looking  around  at  the  promising  array  of  novices,  most  of 
whom  were  known  to  him,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  declare,  Miss  McAuley, 
I  really  believe  you  are  the  greatest  enemy  the  fashionable  world 
has."  He  might  speak  thus,  for  her  Institute  had  already  robbed 
the  parks  and  ball-rooms  of  their  fairest  ornaments. 

To  gain  souls  to  God,  Catlierine  often  used  extraordinary  means, 
and  she  could  say,  with  her  friend  the  Apostle  of  Temperance,  ♦'  I 
feel  that  no  sacrifice,  whether  of  health,  or  of  property,  or  of  life 
itself,  is  too  great  to  save  from  ruin  or  perdition  the  humblest  of 
those  for  whom  our  Saviour  shed  His  most  precious  blood." 

A  counsellor  of  high  repute  in  his  profession,  who  had  passed 
most  of  his  life  in  neglect  ol:'  his  laligious  duties,  met  with  an  acci* 


\ 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


95T 


the  relief  ot 
ret  their  duty 
she  ordains  in 
ly  coatinoally 
igation  of  the 
ommaoion  for 
:ement  of  the 
the  perfection 
lesired  to  see 
th  the  active 
!s,"  lie  would 
the  neighbor, 
Jesos  Christ.'* 
eat  beauty  or 
t  Mother  Mc- 
1  ladies,  judg^ 

and  that  the 
Bonis  to  Him, 
it  to  add  the 
for  I  am  meek 
[at  persons  of 
I  most  humble 
ir  in  Religion, 
ist  pious, 
he  community, 
avices,  most  of 
tf iss  McAuley, 
liionable  world 
ilready  robbed 

rdinary  means, 
emperance,  "  I 
erty,  or  of  life 
le  humblest  of 
blood." 

ho  had  passed 
it  with  an  acci» 


dent,  which  almost  cost  his  life.  In  youth,  he  unfortunately  ob* 
served  some  defects  in  clergymen,  and  confounding  their  doctrine 
with  their  profession,  he  declared  he  would  cease  to  belong  to  a 
Church  which  tolerated  such  imporfections  in  its  ministers.  Ho 
forgot  that  Priests,  in  their  highest  estate,  are  men,  not  angels, 
and  as  men,  and  even  as  just  men,  liable  to  fail  in  many  things ; 
aqd  obliged  daily  to  repeat,  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses."  Strange 
as  it  may  seem,  no  persons  ever  exact  greater  perfection  of  ecclesi- 
astics and  Religious  than  those  who  excuse  themselves  completely 
ttom  practices  of  piety.  The  sister  of  this  gentleman  besought 
him  with  tears  to  see  a  Priest,  but  he  replied  that  he  would  die  aa 
he  had  lived.  At  last,  he  offered  to  have  an  interview  with  Miss 
McAuley,  provided  she  consented  to  come  in  the-  evening.  Re- 
membering how  Jesus  condescended  to  the  weakness  of  his  tim- 
orous disciple  Nicodemus,  the  Foundress,  accompanied  by  a  Sister, 
drove  to  Merrion  Square,  where  this  gentleman  resided,  late  in  the 
evening.  Her  words  made  such  an  impression  on  him,  that  he 
promised  all  she  required,  and  he  fully  redeemed  his  promises. 

After  she  sent  young  persons  to  situations,  she  continued  to 
watch  over  their  health  and  comfort  with  maternal  solicitude.  She 
encouraged  them  to  visit  the  convent  frequently,  and  when  she 
could  not  see  them  herself,  charged  a  Sister  to  bring  her  all  infor- 
mation concerning  them  ;  and  if  she  learned  they  were  in  any 
danger,  she  would  remove  them  from  it.  A  young  woman,  whom 
she  sent  to  a  situation,  in  1833,  suddenly  refrained  from  calling  at 
St.  Mary's.  After  being  frequently  sent  for,  she  came  one  day  in 
a  style  of  dress  quite  unsuitable  to  her  position,  and  the  next  news 
of  her  was,  that  she  had  left  her  situation,  and  gone  to  reside  in  a 
quarter  where  no  questions  were  asked  of  those  who  "  paid  thehr 
way,"  how  questionable  soever  the  source  of  their  revenues.  This 
frail  creature  was  very  handsome,  bearing  a  remarkable  resemblance 

to  a  Miss  0 ,  who  was  considered  the  belle  of  the  capital  some 

thirty  years  ago.  Her  master,  forgetful  of  his  dignity  as  head  of 
a  family,  and  his  duty  as  a  Christian,  took  advantage  of  her  vanity, 
and,  by  threats  and  persuasions,  but  chiefly  by  supplying  her  with 

money  "  to  dress  lilce  Miss  C ,"  prevailed  on  her  to  admit  his 

addresses.    He  was  of  a  very  violent  temper,  and  when  Miss  Mc- 


r- 


258 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  IfOAULET. 


Aoley  determined  to  make  a  last  effort  to  rescne  her  protegee,  uhe 
deemed  it  imprudent  ti  rentore  into  bis  presence  anaccompanied 
by  a  clergyman. 

Accompanied  by  Dr.  Blake,  she  set  oat  for  the  girl's  new  resi- 
dence, where  they  arrived  towards  dusk.    She  knocked  at  the 

drawing-room  door,  and  being  invited  to  enter,  fonnd  Mr.  F 

looking  over  the  evening  paper,  the  poor  servant  sitting  at  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  table,  "dressed  like  Miss  G ."     A  blush  of 

deepest  crimson  overspread  her  whole  countenance — shame,  anger, 
and  remorse,  mingled,  perhaps,  with  a  little  gratitude  for  her  bei 
efactress,  struggled  within  her.  When  the  first  shock  was  over, 
she  fainted. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  Catherine  to  Mr.  F ,  "  is  it  here  you  ought 

to  be  ?  Is  this  justice  to  your  amiable  wife  and  children  ?  Is  this 
the  way  you  tamper  with  the  virtue  of  a  poor  nnprotected  crea- 
ture ?  Is  it  thus  you  respond  to  the  confidence  I  placed  in  you 
when  I  sent  a  good  servant  to  yonr  family  V 

He  muttered  something  about  "  providing  for  the  girl." 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  she,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  you  have  robbed 
her  of  her  fair  fame,  which  the  wealth  of  a  thousand  worlds  can- 
not restore.  Talk  not  of  making  reparation  for  such  a  wrong ; 
you  may  repent  of  it,  bat  you  cannot  repair  it." 

Not  in  the  least  annoyed  by  her  intrusion,  he  promised  her  that 
he  would  never  again  commit  such  a  crime,  and  taking  up  his  hat 
to  leave,  he  innocently  begged  Miss  McAuley  would  not  mention 
the  matter  to  his  wife. 

When  the  poor  girl  recovered  her  consciousness,  she  cried  out : 
"  What  am  I  to  do,  ma'am  7  You  cannot  take  me  now,  though  '.' 
have  been  here  only  a  fuw  hours.  I  know  you  coold  not  let  me 
among  the  girls  again." 

The  Repentant  creature  sobbed  bitterly.  "If  we  cannot  take 
you  home,  my  child,"  said  the  Foundress,  "  we  can  still  provide  for 
you."  Thus  almost  mi  rf .culonsly  rescued  from  destruction,  she 
evn  after  persevered  in  a  virtuous  course.* 

•  On  another  occasion,  Mother  MoAuley  went,  with  a  clergyman,  on  a  slmi 
lor  nilsaion.    When  the  young  gfentleman,  who  wa»  well  known  to  her,  aaw 
the  Prluat,  he  seiied  a  pUtol,  and  aworo  to  ehoot  him  if  lie  advanced  •  etep. 


H^UiUv 


ip% 


protegee,  she 
inaccompanied 

firl's  new  resi- 
tocked  at  the 

ind  Mr.  F 

ting  at  the  op- 
"     A  blosh  of 
-shame,  anger, 
de  for  her  bet 
lock  Y^as  OTer, 

ere  yoa  onght 

Idren  ?    I8  this 

wotected  crea- 

placed  in  yoa 

I  girl." 

a  have  robbed 
nd  worlds  can- 
9ach  a  wrong ; 

mised  her  that 
ling  np  his  hat 
Id  not  mention 

she  cried  oat : 
now,  though  '.' 
aid  not  let  me 

we  cannot  take 
still  provide  for 
lestruction,  she 


rg>man,  on  a  slmi 
nown  to  her,  saw 
I  idvanocd  •  itep. 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


n9 


Mother  McAuley,  to  show  Mr.  F.  that  she  relied  on  his  word 
of  honor,  sent  a  servant  to  his  house  next  day,  and  she  had  no 
cause  to  repent  of  it :  she  had  such  a  way  of  trusting  people  and 
working  on  their  better  qualities,  that  few  could  find  it  in  their 
hearts  to  disappoint  the  confidence  she  reposed  in  them.  Some 
years  later,  she  accidentally  met  this  gentleman.  She  had  forgotten 
the  circamstances  of  the  previous  meeting,  but  he  had  not. 

**  Miss  McAnley,"  said  he,  "  I  thank  yoa  for  reclaiming  me,  and 
I  confess  that  I  never  knew  what  shame  was  till  you  confronted 
me  on  that  dreadful  night.  The  remembrance  of  the  look  you 
then  gave  me  has  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  attempt  a  similar 
offence.  ITicU  look  will  never  leave  my  heart.  It  is  my  safe- 
guard." 

The  zeal  of  the  Foundress  was  not  confined  to  any  one  department 
of  the  Institute,  and  she  rejoiced  as  much  or  more  at  the  suc- 
cess of  others  as  at  her  own.  Thus  she  wrote  to  the  Superioress 
of  the  Cork  Convent :  "  I  think  the  Institute  over  which  you  pre- 
oIJ:  will  yet  excel  the  poor  old  Mother  House,  St.  Mary's;  and  I 
sincerely  hope  it  may.'*  The  same  sentiment  she  frequently  ex- 
presses in  her  letters  to  the  other  houses. 

A  lady  once  entered  St.  Mary's  on  whom  the  hopes  of  another 
convent  were  fixed.  When  Mother  McAuley  learned  this,  she 
sent  for  her,  and  said  : 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  keep  yoa  here,  my  child,  the  N Sisters  aro 

so  disappointed  at  your  not  going  to  them.  We  want  subjects 
very  much  just  now,  but  the  prosperity  of  Baggot-street  most 
never  be  built  on  the  disappointment  of  another  convent."* 

Mother  MoAuley  thea  stepped  forward,  but  he  no  sooner  saw  her  than  ks 
dropped  his  weapon.  "  One  look  from  Miss  MoAuley  in  the  greatest  punish- 
ment I  could  receive,"  said  he,  and  he  hurried  off  without  waiting  a  second. 
Mother  McAuloy  took  the  object  of  her  solicitude  to  a  safe  place,  and  prqjrided 
her  with  a  situation  as  soon  as  she  gave  evidence  of  being  thoroughly  converted. 
*  On  another  occasion,  the  Foundress,  after  admitting  a  very  desirable  sub- 
ject, received  a  letter  from  an  ancient  Religious,  whose  heart  seemed  bent  oa 
having  this  lady  in  her  own  Order,  for  which  she  believed  her  to  have  a  voo«- 
tion.  Hearing  that-  her  stay  in  the  Order  of  Mercy  was  decided,  she  wrote  » 
very  severe  letter  to  Mother  MoAuley,  whom  she  taxed  with  using  undue  in- 
laence  on  a  generous,  oonflding  soul,  and  coaxing  to  her  Order  one  who  had  n«i 


I 


J^ 


rr 


m 


260 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINS  M°1.XTLBT. 


Yerily,  the  magnanimity  of  Catherine  iras  eqnal  to  her  charity. 

Fraternal  charity  is  the  proof  that  we  love  God,  for  "  if  we  do 
not  lore  our  brother  whom  we  see,  how  can  we  love  God  whom 
we  do  not  see  V*  Nataral  kindness  and  benevolence  Catherine 
possessed  in  a  high  degree,  but  her  heroic  charity  was  the  result 
of  constant  effort  to  imitate  the  charity  of  Jesns.  Her  instmctiona 
on  this  Tirtoe  were  sublime.  She  was  never  weary  of  expatiating 
on  the  glorious  description  of  charity  given  by  St.  Paul :  "  Charity 
is  patient,  charity  is  kind,"  etc.  It  was  the  text  of  all  her  dis* 
courses,  and  whatever  other  virtue  she  introduced,  she  always  came 
back  to  charity.  "  Love  one  another  as  I  have  loved  you,"  she 
would  say,  and  then  add  :  "  If  the  blessed  words  of  onr  Divine 
Lord  ought  to  be  reverenced  by  all  persons,  how  much  more  by 
Religions  !  With  what  loving  devotion  should  we  treasure  them 
up  in  our  hearts  I  What  incessant  effort  should  we  not  use  to 
reduce  them  to  practice  I  He  tells  us  to  love  as  Be  loved;  can 
we  then  place  any  bounds  to  our  mutual  affection  7"  Again,  she 
would  say  :  "  Our  charity  should  be  cordial ;  now  cordial  means 
something  that  refreshes,  enlivens,  invigorates.  If  yon  only  love 
each  other  cordially,  you  have  heaven  already." 

On  one  occasion,  two  sisters,  each  over-anxious  for  the  advance- 
ment of  her  own  charge,  having  displayed  more  zeal  than  the 
circumstances  warranted,  Mother  McAuley  no  sooner  settled  the 
matter  than  she  went  to  the  choir  to  pray  that  the  slightest  mis- 
understanding might  never  creep  in  among  the  Sisters;  and  that 
night,  while  others  slept,  she  was  piostrate  in  the  choir  making 
the  same  petition.    God  so  fully  blessed  her  efforts  to  preserve 

voi^aHoii  for  it.  "  As  for  mygelf,"  she  added,  "  I  uonfeog  that  I  do  not  find  it 
eaay  to  forgive  you.  You  liave  robbed  me  of  tlie  staif  wliioh  I  had  fondly 
h6pcd  would  support  my  old  age."  The  Foundreea  was  really  grieved  at  the 
affliction  of  tbia  affectionate  lady.  She  wrote  a  moat  soothing  reply,  stating 
that^he  vocation  of  the  postulant  had  been  decided  by  her  director,  and  es- 
prensing  the  deepei<t  regret  for  being  iDstrnmental,  though  unconsoionsly,  in 
causing  her  pain.  Believe  mo,  respected  mother,"  she  added,  "  so  Air  aa  I 
am  concerned,  I  would  gladly  restore  '  the  staff'  of  which  I  have  been  so  un- 
fortunate as  to  rob  you,  but  as  the  lady's  director  decides  that  her  vocation  is 
to  be  a  Sister  of  Mercy,  you  Itnow  I  could  not  presume  to  act  against  hia  judg- 
ment." Tlie  good  Keligiong  not  only  forgave  the  "  robbery,"  but  apologised  for 
bar  too  hasty  censures,  and  did  not  urge  the  restitution  Airther. 


)  her  charity, 
or  "  if  we  do 
e  God  whom 
nee  Catherine 
'as  the  result 
er  instmctions 
[>f  expatiating 
inl : "  Charity 
)f  all  herdir 
e  always  came 
Ted  you,"  she 
5f  onr  Divine 
nuch  more  by 
treasure  them 
we  not  use  to 
He  loved;  can 
"  Again,  she 
cordial  means 
'  you  only  love 

ir  the  advance- 
zeal  than  the 
ler  settled  the 
slightest  mis- 
ters; and  that 
I  choir  making 
rts  to  preserve 

at  I  do  not  find  it 
liioh  I  had  fondly 
illy  grieved  at  the 
xng  reply,  Htating 
'  director,  Bod  ex- 
unconsoionsly,  in 
led,  "  so  far  aa  I 
have  been  so  un- 
at  her  vocation  is 
against  his  Judg- 
but  apologized  for 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEr. 


881 


charity,  that  towards  the  end  of  her  life,  she  told  a  Sister  in  con- 
fidence, that  no  breach  of  charity  had  ever  occurred  in  the  Order, 
though  its  members  then  numbered  hundreds.  "  This,"  she  added, 
"is  our  only  boast."  Wherever  this  boast  can  be  truly  made,  there 
is  the  Spirit  of  God. 

She  required  that  the  manners  of  the  Sisters  should  be  particn- 
lariy  kind,  genial,  and  affectionate  ;  that  they  should  evince  delight 
in  having  an  opportunity  of  serving,  obliging,  or  even  gratifying 
each  other.  Her  own  manners  were  most  pleasing  and  gracious, 
and  a  perfect  exemplification  of  what  she  required  from  others.  At 
recreation,  she  was  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  Her  natural  disposi- 
tion was  very  lively,  and  no  matter  what  her  troubles  were,  she 
never  inflicted  them  on  others.  She  habitually  looked  at  the 
brightest  side  of  every  thing.  Her  recollections  of  friends  and  early 
days  were  all  of  a  cheerful  nature.  She  possessed  in  a  high  de- 
gree the  quality  of  being  a  most  delightful  raconteu»e.  The 
young  Sisters  delighted  to  hear  her  recount  the  stirring  scenes  of 
her  experience.  When  the/  asked  her  to  tell  a  story,  she  inctantly 
gratified  them  :  when  they  wanted  her  to  sing  a  song,  she  imme- 
diately complied,  though  her  musical  performances,  to  which  we 
shall  subsequently  refer,  were  such  as  to  provoke  many  a  smile,  even 
from  her  simple  auditors. 

Mkbct  was  a  word  of  predilection  with  her.  "It  has  five 
letters,"  she  would  say,  "  corresponding  to  the  five  Sacred  Wounds 
of  onr  Sweet  Saviour  ;  it  begins  with  J(f  and  ends  with  Y,  like  the 
name  of  His  Ever  Blessed  Mother.  It  is  God's  mercy  that 
renders  His  charity  practical  in  our  regard ;  for  what  had  His 
charity  profited  us,  if  His  mercy  had  not  redeemed  us  ?" 

One  evening,  the  Sisters  asked  her  to  write  them  a  verse  on 
Mercy.  She  immediately  composed,  quite  impromptu,  the  fol- 
lowing lines' : 

^'-  "  Sweet  Meroy,  soothing,  patient,  mild  and  Itind,  * 

"^  Soften3  the  high  and  lifU  the  fallen  mind ; 

'  Knows  with  soil  rein  and  even  hand  to  guide, 

Nor  yields  to  feor,  nor  knows  exacting  pride ; 
Not  soon  provoked,  it  easily  forgives. 
Is  all  to  all,  and  with  a  look  relieves ;  ^ 

Soft  peace  it  brings  wherever  it  irrives, 
Removes  our  pains,  and  crowns  with  joy  our  UvM  I" 


TS?? 


262 


UFB  OF  OATHERINK  MCAULBT. 


"  Mercy,"  she  wonid  say,  "  receives  the  nngratefnl  again  and 
again,  and  is  never  weary  of  pardoning  them.  Oh,  how  kind,  how 
compassionate,  how  tender,  how  merciful,  ought  not  we,  Sisters 
of  Mercy,  to  be  !"* 

The  Sisters  who  were  at  any  time  her  companions  on  her  mis- 
sions of  mercy,  could  nerer  forget  the  tenderness  with  which  she 
addressed  the  poor.  No  disease  was  loathsome  enou^'h  to  repel 
her,  no  crune  great  enoagh  to  scandalize  her.  She  would  not  al- 
low the  poor  who  were  daily  relieved  at  the  convent  to  be  put  to 
the  smallest  inconvenience.  "  We  must  not  make  them  pay  for 
what  we  give  them,"  said  she.  We  do  not  give  a  ihing  gratui- 
tously when  we  put  the  recipients  to  unnecessary  troabln  ;  on  the 
contrary,  we  make  them  pay  very  dearly  for  it.  To  bestow  an 
alms  on  a  poor  widow  after  having  kept  her  waiting  half  an  hour 
in  a  cold  hall,  is  not  charity  ;  the  miserable  stipend  is  too  well 
earned.  It  was  not  thus  the  Saints  assisted  the  poor.  When  some 
Polish  vassals  had  been  robbed  of  their  cattle,  their  prince,  urged  by 
St.  Hedwiges,  his  wife,  ordered  the  restoration  of  the  plunder,  bat 
did  so  at  his  own  convenience.  When  he  told  his  wife  that  he  had 
now  satisfied  them,  the  royal-hearted  princess  reproachfully  replied  : 

"  You  have  restored  to  them  theur  cattle,  but  who  can  restore 
their  tears  ?" 

The  Fouudress  liad  the  most  beautiful  considerateness  for  the 
feelings  of  others.f  ller  mind  was  of  that  almost  godlike  nature* 
that  the  more  slie  suffered  from  others,  the  more  compassionate  she 
became.  Some  Superiors  think  fit  to  dismiss  subjects  whom  they 
find  unsattable,  without  any  warning,  and  without  even  giving  the 

*  Mother  McAnley  nlways  thought  that  Religious  should  strive  to  ba  the 
kindest  people  ia  the  world,  but  that  SUttri  of  Mercy  ought  to  be  peculiarly 
kind.  Indeed,  the  very  name  HUttr  of  Mtrey  could  only  humorously  be  ap- 
plied to  an  unkit   '  person,  even  though  she  wore  the  garb  of  one. 

t  There  is  an  old  lady  in  Chicago  who  knew  Miss  MoAuley  more  than  half  a 
century  ago.  She  is  never  weary  of  extolling  her  kindness,  <&o.  *'  She  was  so 
thoughtful,"  said  she,  "  that  noticing  I  always  stood  on  the  steps  of  Coolook 
House  when  concluding  a  visit,  both  to  enjoy  the  view  and  to  hate  a  last  few 
words  with  her,  she  ordered  n  thick  rug  mat  to  be  left  on  the  stone  floor  of  the 
porch,  lest  I  should  cntoh  cold  while  standing  there,  for  I  always  wore  very  thin 
sboeii."  As  this  lady  is  in  a  very  advanced  stage  of  childi»hnut,  her  recolleo- 
tious  oould  not  with  certainty  be  considered  biogrBphioul. 


il  again  and 
)w  kind,  how 
t  we,  Sisters 

>  on  her  mia- 
th  which  she 
a</\\  to  repel 
roald  not  al- 
to be  put  to 
them  pay  for 
thing  gratni- 
nblo  ;  on  the 
ro  bestow  an 
half  an  bonr 
i  is  too  well 
When  some 
ince,  urged  by 
3  plnnder,  bat 
fe  that  he  had 
lifuUy  replied : 
0  can  restore 

teness  for  the 
;odlike  natarei 
ipassiouate  she 
;t3  whom  they 
iven  givmg  the 

.  strive  to  be  the 
;  to  be  peonliarly 
nmorously  be  »p- 
>ue. 

more  thta  half  a 
io.  "She  WHS  M 
steps  of  Coolook 
o  bate  a  last  few 
stone  floor  of  tbe 
lys  wore  very  thin 
nut,  her  recoUeo- 


■'ij^ipyputHpnninii 


LIFK  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULKT. 


fl 


368 


reasons.  She  would  never  act  thus.  When  she  percived  in  nov- 
ices symptoms  of  decaying  fervor,  she  tried,  first  by  every  variety 
of  gentle  means,  and  then  by  severe  admoniti'  n,  to  nin  them 
back.  She  studied  their  natural  dispositions,  carefully  considering 
whether  their  faults  proceeded  from  ignorance  or  malice,  from  cul- 
pable or  inculpable  self.  If  she  found  any  one  incorrigible,  she 
would  not  still  dismiss  her  without  showing  Bcr  every  possible 
kindness.  "  My  dear  chiki,"  she  would  say,  "  you  have  been  here 
now  for  so  many  months.  You  were  told,  from  the  first,  what 
would  be  expected  from  you,  if  permitted  to  persevere  with  us. 
Now,  you  have  not  fulfilled  our  expectations,  perhaps  you  could 
not  ;  and  it  may  be  that  you  are  not  destined  to  work  out  your 
salvation  here,  where  we  have  to  labor  so  much  for  the  salvation 
of  others.  Try  some  other  convent,  or  see  if  your  .  ocation  may 
not  be  for  the  world.  The  votes  of  Religious  communities  are 
usually  considered  as  the  manifestation  of  God's  will  ;  they  have 
been  against  you  here,  but  we  will  pray  for  you  ;  ami  we  wish  you 
to  believe  that  your  salvation,  as  well  as  the  good  of  our  Institute, 
has  influenced  our  decision."* 

•  In  1835,  a  niece  of  a  prelate,  whom  the  Foundress  highly  esteemed,  entered. 
She  was  under  twenty,  pious,  rich,  and  tulentcd,  but  had  such  on  inveterate 
propensity  for  extravagant  partialities,  that  she  could  scarcely  live  without 
showing  a  particular  friendship  for  some  one  or  other, — on  inconvenience  the 
Foundress  sought  to  guard  against  in  the  Order,  by  ordaining  that  recreation 
should  always  be  token  in  coniiiion.  The  first  objects  of  this  passiou  were 
two  very  young  postulonts,  wiio  were,  in  consequence,  removed  to  another 
house, — ft  proceeding  which  so  annoyed  their  now  friend  that  she  immediately 
prepared  to  go  home.  The  Foundress,  know >  l'  that  she  hud  a  vocation,  and 
that  her  happiness  in  this  world,  and  peiliai^  -  her  salvation  in  the  next,  de- 
pended on  the  couroge  witli  which  slie  should  strive  to  surmount  the  only  ob- 
stacle to  her  perseverance,  reasoned  with  her,  but  to  no  purpose.  Hoping  tbe 
temptation  would  pass  away,  she  sought  to  detain  her  a  few  days,  and,  as  .>he 
was  an  excellent  musician,  asked  her,  as  a  favor,  to  remain  to  perform  at  a 
ceremony  to  take  nlace  next  morning,  but  received  this  ungracious  reply:  "If 
I  do  not  stay  for  my  own  oonvonienoc,  you  may  -iire  I  sliall  not  stay  to  oblige 
you."  As  the  Foundress  predicted,  tliis  lady  became  so  unhappy  in  the  world 
that  she  sought  admission  to  the  Institute  in  Carlow.  When  consulted  by  the 
Superioress  of  St.  Leo's,  Motlier  Mc.\uloy  said,  "  Take  her,  if  you  please ;  we 
a'B  under  obligations  to  her  uncle,  and  cannot  wll  refuse  to  give  her  a  trial ; 
but  she  will  not  persevere."  This  lady,  who  ^  j  living  (1806),  has  since 
made  several  novitiates  in  various  Orders,  but  has  uut  been  able  to  persevere  io 


^Lmmtt 


WK 


264 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Mother  McAuley  never  dismissed  any  one  for  want  of  pecaniaiy 
means.  Like  St.  Teresa,  she  loved  to  receive  those  whose  forfainefl 
were  small,  unless,  indeed,  the  ecclesiastical  anthoritiey  interfered, 
which  sometimes  huppened.  In  1832,  a  friend  of  Dr.  Blake's  was 
Bent  from  a  convent  for  want  of  fortanc  :  when  he  mentioned  this 
to  Mother  McAnley,  she  qaietlj  said  : 

"  We  shall  be  lAppy  to  give  her  a  trial  here,  Father," 

"  But  she  has  not  any  property," 

"No  matter — send  her."  .    ~      ,.       *.=  ;i- 

When  he  withdrew,  she  remarked  to  a  Sister  near  her  : 

"  Whoever  Dr.  Blake  sends  will  bring  a  blessing  on  the  house.". 

Next  day  he  called,  and  handed  seven  hundred  poun^  to  the 
Sister  in  the  parlor,  saying  :  .,     :        ,  y.     -  •. 

"  I  got  this  from  a  basket-maker  who  died  last  uight ;  pray  for 
him.     Miss  McAnley  will  make  a  better  use  of  it  than  I." 

A  B«ligions  still  living  (1866)  once  mentioned  to  the  Foundress 
a  pecuniary  embarrassment  of  a  certain  convent.  Having  learned 
that  their  liabilities  were  about  eighty  or  ninety  pounds,  she  imme- 
diately  sent  the  poor  nuns  a  hundred  pounds. 

Before  she  had  any  idea  of  becoming  a  Religious,  a  priest,  with 
whom  she  was  slightly  acquainted,  told  her  he  was  anxious  to  build 
schools  in  his  parish,  but  complained  that  poverty  placed  a  barriei; 
to  his  zeal.    She  gave  him  five  hundred  pounds,  saying  : 

"  Commence  the  good  work,  and  God  will  do  the  rest." 

Even  when  she  had  to  provide  for  the  successful  operation  of 
the  many  charitable  works  she  herself  had  originated,  she  could  not 
bear  to  think  that  Religious  were  in  distress.  One  day  the  Arch- 
bishop informed  her  that  the  funds  of  a  neighboring  convent  were 
in  a  very  precarious  state. 

"  The  nuns  themselves  are  to  blame,"  said  he,  a  little  sternly  ; 
"had  there  been  good  management,  their  income  was  quite  ade- 
quate to  their  wants.    Were  I  speaking  to  another,  I  would  ad- 

imy.  She  has  been  terribly  punished  for  tho  abuse  of  gmoo  that  first  sent  her 
baolc  to  t  10  world,  and  would  gladly  enter  any  house  of  the  Order,  that  sho 
might  at  least  die  ainonf;  those  with  whom  she  ought  to  have  lived ;  but  the 
Order,  mindful  of  the  prediction  of  tlio  Foundress,  has  never  run  the  risk  of 
giving  her  a  third  trial. 


1 


it  of  pectnuary 
whose  foriunes 
itiea  interfered, 
)r.  Blake's  was 
mentioned  this 

tier." 


ir  her  : 

on  the  house.". 

pounds  to  the 

light  ;  pray  for 
lan  I." 

)  the  Foundress 
Having  learned 
auds,  she  imme- 

18,  a  priest,  with 
anxiona  to  build 
placed  a  barrieK 

ying  : 

e  rest," 

;ful  operation  of 

id,  she  could  not 

e  day  the  Arch- 

ng  convent  were 

a  little  sternly ; 
B  was  quite  ade- 
lier,  I  would  ad- 

s  that  firet  Bent  her 
the  Order,  that  sho 
have  lived ;  but  the 
iver  run  the  risk  of 


' 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 

rise  that  the  expenditure  be  always  a  little  below  the  receipts,  and 
that,  while  nothing  essential  to  health  or  good  order  be  wanting, 
superfluities  be  entirely  retrenched.  Bat  I  have  never  spoken  to 
you  on  this  subject,  because  I  place  entire  reliance  on  your  pru- 
dence and  discretion." 

The  same  day  a  letter  reached  her  from  the  convent  his  Grace 
had  alluded  to,  asking  a  loan  of  two  hundred  pounds  to  pay  some 
pressing  debts.  She  immediately  sent  it.  A  Sister  present  asked 
her  if  she  thought  the  money  would  ever  be  paid.  The  generous 
Foundress  replied  : 

"  Oh  no,  they  will  never  be  able  to  pay  it.  I  would  send  it  as 
a  present,  only  they  might  be  pained.  I  can  easily  let  them  know, 
in  a  few  days,  that  we  will  not  ever  claim  it  ;  and  if  it  helps  to 
keep  them  together,  it  will  be  the  best  alms  we  ever  bestowed." 

Except  where  charity  was  really  needed,  however,  Mother 
McAuley  could  be  as  penurious  as  a  miser.  •  She  would  not  oblige 
her  own  relations  with  a  small  loan,  unless  it  were  to  pay  some 
pressing  debt  or  procure  something  really  necessary  ;  and  even 
then  she  required  payment,  for  she  always  said,  even  before  she 
had  made  a  vow  of  poverty,  that  whatever  she  possessed  belonged 

to  the  poor,  to  whom  she  had  made  it  over.    Lady  E onco 

asked  her  for  a  loan  of  five  pounds.  In  a  mild  but  decisive  tone 
she  refused  her  ladyship,  saying  : 

"  The  wealth  I  have  belongs  to  God  and  His  poor.  I  cannot 
even  loan  it  for  worldly  purposes,  deeply  as  I  regret  to  disoblige 
your  ladyship." 

Lady  E had  already  squandered  a  fortune  at  the  card-table, 

hence  the  Foundress  would  scruple  to  loan  her  the  trifling  sum  of 
five  pounds,  though  it  was  most  painful  to  her  to  disoblige  any 
one. 

Though  several  of  Mother  McAuley's  associates  were  admitted 
without  fortunes,  and  though  not  a  few  owed  to  her  bounty  the 
education  which  fitted  them  for  their  position,  she  fulfilled  in  their 
regard  the  counsel  of  the  Holy  Ghost :  "  Have  they  made  thee  a 
ruler  ?  Be  not  lifted  up  ;  be  as  one  among  them."  There  was  in 
her  a  complete  absence  of  that  superciliousness,  that  arrogant  aa- 
Bumption  of  superiority^  that  standing  on  her  toes  to  show  "  how 

12 


m^ 


' 


^m 


266 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


tall  she  was  above  them  all,"  which  mark  a  plebeian  mind  even  in 
an  empress,  bnt  which  superficial  observers  mistake  for  dignity. 
She  was  never  obliged  to  resort  to  such  vulgar  means  for  tlie  pur- 
pose of  keeping  people  in  their  places  ;  a  gentlewoman  never  is  ; 
she  takes  her  own  place  quietly,  and  others  naturally  fall  into 
thebs.  She  can  yield,  she  can  submit,  she  can  wash  the  feet  of 
her  inferiors,  without  "  losing  her  place,"  because  there  is  an  inde- 
Suable  something  about  her  which  awes  even  while  it  inspires 
affection  and  esteem. 

Did  the  Saints  lose  their  dignity  by  being  sweet,  affable,  and  be- 
nign to  all  around  them  ?  We  thin'c  not.  Yet  they,  especially 
those  who  lived  most  among  their  kind,  were  remarkable  for  this 
gracious  deportment.  Whether  they  earned  heaven  in  a  kitchen, 
like  St.  Zita,  or  graced  a  throne,  like  St.  Margaret  of  Scotland  : 
whether  they  sprang  from  the  most  degraded  class,  like  the  Peni- 
tent of  Cortona,  or  ensanguined  the  baptismal  robe  with  martyr's 
blood,  like  the  gentle  child  St.  Agnes  ;  whether  bred  at  the 
plough;  like  St.  Vincent,  or  in  a  feudal  castle,  like  the  sweet  Saint 
of  Geneva  ;  whether  they  passed  their  lives  in  a  desert,  like  the 
first  Hermit,  or  exchanged  the  sword  of  the  cavalier  for  the  sword 
of  the  spirit,  like  the  brave  soldier  of  Loyola  ;  whether  they 
begged  their  bread,  like  the  sainted  LabrS,  or  wielded  a  sceptre> 
like  the  last  of  the  crusader  kings  ;  whether,  in  fine,  they  offered 
fair  children  to  martyrdom,  like  St.  Felicitas,  or  served  God  in 
the  cloister,  like  St.  Teresa, — one  and  all,  they  were  distinguished 
for  this  exquisite  refinement. 

Look  at  her  whom  the  Church  pre-eminently  styles  Lady.  Is 
not  Our  Lady,  Mater  Amdbilis  as  well  as  Mater  Creatoria  f 
Did  she  lose  her  dignity  in  condescending  to  visit  her  aged  c-«u8in  ? 
And  even  when  the  Holy  Ghost  reveals  what  she  so  dexterously 
concealed,  far  from  assuming  the  superiority  duo  her,  she  tolls  Elis- 
abeth that  she  is  only  His  handmaid,  His  slave.  Saintly  people 
know  but  one  model  greater  than  this  divine  handmaid  ;  that 
model )"?  her  adorable  Son,  who  "  came  to  serve,  not  to  be  served," 
and  whose  own  divine  hands  washed  the  feet  of  Hi>  low-born,  on* 
couth,  and  ignorant  discipk.'i. 

But  to  return  to  our  subject. 


,'i^ 


ii  I'smrnm^mmmmia-'K'.':  f  liTiSJianj-saara 


LirE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


267 


aind  even  in 
for  dignity. 
1  for  t'.ie  pur- 
an  never  is  ; 
ally  fall  into 
ii  the  feet  of 
ire  is  an  inde- 
le  it  inspires 

fable,  and  be- 
ley,  especially 
:able  for  this 

in  a  kitchen, 
of  Scotland  : 
like  the  Peni- 
with  martyr's 

bred  at  the 
le  sweet  Saint 
Bsert,  like  the 
for  the  sword 
whether  they 
Ided  a  Bceptre« 
B,  they  offered 
icrvcd  God  in 
I  distinguished 

les  Lady.  Is 
T  Creatoria  f 
:  aged  c  ""usin  ? 
so  dexterously 
,  she  tolls  EUe- 

Saintly  people 
indmoid  ;  that 

to  be  served," 
I  low-born,  un- 


M 


The  prudence  of  Catherine  was  a  marvel  even  to  the  wise. 
Bishops,  doctors,  and  persons  of  high  standing  generally  adopted 
her  views,  after  conferring  a  little  with  her.  She  never  made  an 
appointment  that  she  was  obliged  after  to  revoke ;  and  this  is  what 
few  m  a  similar  position  could  say,  for  though  God  gives  Superiors 
His  authority.  He  does  not  alwaya  give  them  His  patience,  His 
•wisdom,  His  foresight.  It  was  her  heavenly  prudence  that  caused 
her  to  fix  her  eye  on  God,  and  to  regard  every  event  from  His 
point  of  view,  to  seek  His  glory  in  all  things,  and  to  remove  from 
those  under  her  charge  every  occasion  of  offending  Him.  To  the 
prudence  of  the  serpent  she  united  the  simplicity  of  the  dove,  ab- 
horring the  very  shadow  of  duplicity. 

'ihe  cardinal  virtue  of  justice  teaches  us  "to  give  to  Coesar  what 
belongs  to  Caesar,  and  to  God  what  belongs  to  God."  Strictly 
speaking,  we  can  hardly  be  just  towards  God,  for  "  what  have  we 
that  we  have  not  received  ?"  and  what  can  we  give  Him  that  is 
not  already  His  by  many  titles  ?  But  towards  her  neighbor, 
whom  she  regarded  as  God's  substitute,  she  was  not  only  just  but 
generous.  She  regarded  herself  merely  as  the  administrator  of 
the  vast  wealth  she  inherited.  From  an  inherent  love  of  justice, 
she  exacted  from  each  of  her  Sisters  a  perfect  observance  of  the 
Rules  and  Constitutions,  proportioning  the  labor  of  every  one  to 
her  grace  and  strength,  and  careful  never  to  exceed  her  authority 
by  imposing  any  thing  that  the  Rules  and  Customs*  did  not 
ordain. 

Yet,  with  a  holy  dissimulation,  she  appeared  not  to  notice  many 
things  calculated  to  ruffle  the  peace  of  one  less  perfect ;  and,  in  n 
spiritual  sense,  she  fully  appreciated  the  wisdom  of  that  royal 
maxim  :  "  He  who  knows  not  how  to  dissemble,  knows  not  how 
to  reign.".    Her  temperance  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  describe, 

■*  Tho  Customs  woro  not  tlion  writtoii  in  full,  though  Uioy  lind  beon  obHorvod 
from  tho  fliBt  uudor  the  titlo  of  "  Genorul  DirootionM."  They  were  nil  oollectod 
after  tho  death  of  tho  Foundress,  iind  are  now  liicorporntod  into  n  work  styled 
"A  QulJo  for  tlio  UeligloiiH  onllud  Sisters  of  Mercy,"  a  sort  of  oomiiicntnry  on 
the  Iliile,  written  with  ?niioli  eloganco  and  perKpieuity  by  Mothef'  Fninoes  Rridi;- 
inan,  of  Kinsalo.  "  Tho  Guido"  was  adopted  by  a  general  olinptor  of  the  Or- 
der which  met  in  Limerick,  1804,  and  has  betn  generally  rewivod  by  the  oon- 
ventB  of  the  Order 


I     t 

'i, 


lii 


^&l 


ki 


268 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


since  we  shall  hare  to  speak  of  her  heroic  mortification  ;  and  foiv 
titade,  the  "atural  result  of  a  high  degree  of  confidence  in  Qod, 
was  the  characteristic  virtue  of  her  life. 

Such  was  her  chastity,  that  in  all  the  varied  events  ot  her  che- 
quered life  no  one  accused  her  of  the  slightest  levity  of  word  or  act. 
Though  most  friendly  und  affable  in  manner,  there  was  ever  a  holy 
reserve  about  her  which  seemed  like  the  veil  of  her  modesty. 
Her  virtue  was  above  all  suspicion,  yet  she  was  most  cautious. 
When  gentlemen  called,  she  saw  them  in  the  public  parlor,  usually 
crowded  with  other  visitors.  When  bishops  or  other  distinguished 
persons,  Mends  and  benefactors,  as  Dr.  Blake,  Dr.  Fitzgerald, 
came  to  confer  with  her  on  matters  important  to  the  Order,  she 
generally  received  them  in  the  community-room,  which  being  very 
spacious,  business  might  be  transacted  at  the  upper  end  without 
being  heard  by  such  Sisters  as  might  be  translating,  illuminating, 
working  or  studying  in  silence  at  the  community-table.  The  As- 
sistant or  some  other  Sister  was  always  with  her  on  these  occa- 
sions, which  were  of  fi':!quent  occurrence.  Sometimes  four  or  five 
bishops  met  together  at  St.  Mary's,  and  all  were  received  with  that 
def'ei-ential  courtesy  and  urbanity  which  ever  distinguished  her,  but 
which  were  not  unmingk  1  with  reverence  when  she  treated  with 
ecclesiaotics. 

In  instructing  on  the  angelic  virtue  of  chastity  she  was  very  con- 
cise, confining  her  remarks  chiefly  to  modesty  of  deportment  and 
guard  of  the  senses.  Of  the  latter  she  spoke  much,  yet  she  did 
not  wish  the  Sisters  to  close  their  eyes  so  as  to  neglect  duty  ;  and 
if  she  observed  a  cobweb  on  the  corridor,  or  a  map  hanging  awry 
in  the  schools,  it  would  be  little  use  for  the  Religious  in  charge  of 
either  department  to  allege  custody  of  the  senses  as  an  excuse. 
SI>e  knew  that  she  "  who  feareth  God  neglecteth  nothing,''  espe- 
cially nothing  that  concerns  her  duty  to  her  neighbor. 

From  love  of  religious  modesty,  she  desired  that  every  thing  in 
the  Sisters'  dress  should  be  neat,  though  poor  and  coarse  ;  a  patch 
awkwardly  put  on,  a  rent,  the  smallest  want  of  personal  neatness, 
was  a  grav*'  fault  in  her  eyes,  because  these  things  are  offensive  to 
the  neighbor,  and  calculated  to  lessen  the  opinion  seculars  have,  ot 
ought  to  have,  of  the  religious  state. 


tion ;  and  for* 
ience  in  God, 

ts  ot  her  che- 
of  word  or  act. 
vas  ever  a  holy 
F  her  modesty, 
most  cautious, 
parlor,  usually 
er  distinguished 
Dr.  Fitzgerald, 
the  Order,  she 
hich  being  very 
)er  end  without 
\g,  illuminating, 
able.    The  As- 
on  these  occa- 
nes  four  or  five 
ceived  with  that 
guishcd  her,  but 
ihe  treated  with 

ihe  was  very  con- 
deportment  and 
uch,  yet  she  did 
gleet  duty,  and 
ap  hanging  awry 
ious  in  charge  of 
)B  as  an  excuse. 
\  nothing,"  espe- 
jor. 
it  every  thing  in 

coarse  ;  a  patch 
icrsonal  neatness, 
i  are  offensive  to 

seculars  have,  ot 


■mit«.)wn,miiiua<!mt.ii> 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULEY. 


269 


Before  she  had  any  idea  of  founding  a  Convent,  her  brother 
having  called  one  day,  observed  a  young  person  of  respectable  rank, 
but  very  disorderly  habits,  to  whom  Baggot-street  was  then  giving 
temporary  protection.  With  a  gesture,  expressive  of  disgust,  he 
said  to  his  sister  : 

"  Kitty,"  for  thus  her  own  family  always  addressed  her,  "  you 

'  say  that  I  know  nothing  abont  convents  ;  but  I  will  become  their 

warmest  advocate  from  this  moment,  if  their  purpose  is  to  mcar- 

cerate  girls  like  that,  who  are  unfit  to  live  among  civilized  people, 

and  are  a  burden  end  an  eye-sore  to  all  respectable  society." 

This  was  severe,  considering  that  it  was  evoked  by  a  passing 
glance  at  a  young  lady  fairly  well  educated,  and  of  good  family, 
though  reduced,  but  who  was  deficient  in  the  little  arts  of  putting 
on  her  clothes  tidily,  keeping  her  luxuriant  hair  in  order,  and  putting 
her  boot-lices  out  of  sight.  Mother  McAuley  often  commented 
on  it,  remarking,  that  if  Religious  gave  seculars  room  to  speak  in 
such  a  manner,  or  to  hint  that  they  had  entered  religions  houses 
only  because  they  were  unfit  for  good  society,  all  their  influence  for 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  souls  was  at  an  end.  She  would 
not  think  any  piety  worth  much,  if  it  were  accompanied  by  neglect 
of  duty,  or  any  thing  else  calculated  to  disedify  the  neighbor. 
"  The  most  emuient  spiritual  persons,"  said  she,  "  have  not  a  higher 
idea  of  what  Religions  ought  to  be  than  many  fashionable  persons 
have  ;  who,  if  they  observe  any  thing  below  their  standard,  will 
contemn  the  religious  state,  and  impute  to  thousands  the  defects 
they  perceive  in  one."  The  astute  Greeks,  when  they  saw  illit- 
erate men  assume  the  garb  of  philosophy,  exclaimed,  "I  see  the 
cloak  and  the  beard  of  the  philosopher,  but  where  is  the  philosopher 
himself  ?"  In  the  same  way,  when  seculars  see  the  Religious  habit, 
they  presently  begin  to  look  for  the  Religious. 

The  great  works  the  venerated  Foundress  performed,  far  from 
raising  any  motions  of  vain-glory,  made  her  fear  lest,  while  show- 
ing to  others  the  way  to  heaven,  she  herself  might  become  a  cast- 
away. When  it  became  her  painful  duty  to  admonish  the  Sisters  of 
any  fault,  she  did  so  mildly  and  impressively,  and  made  no  further 
allusion  to  it.  When  any  of  them  applied  to  her  in  doubt,  trouble, 
or  anxiety  about  any  thing,  spiritaal  or  temporal,  she  gave  the 


270 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


a^ 


necessary  direction  or  consolation,  very  sweetly,  bat  in  as  few 
words  as  possible,  for  she  was  always  very  scrupulous  about  the 
use  of  her  time.  She  might  have  said,  with  Isaiah  :  "God hath 
given  me  a  learned  tongue,  whereby  to  support  with  a  word  him 
that  is  weary ;"  but  if  one  word  would  serve  her  purpose  in  these 
private  conferences,  she  would  not  like  to  use  two. 

Nothing  pleased  her  more  than  to  be  treated  as  a  person  of  no 
account.     One  day,  some  ladies  of  distinction  called  to  visit  her, 
but  as  she  was  suflfering  from  an  attack  of  erysipelas  in  the  feet, 
she  could  not  receive  them.     On  being  shown  through  the  house, 
they  found  her  knitting  in  the  community-room,  and  one  of  them 
having  addressed  her  in  a  tone  of  great  respect,  said,  with  evident 
disappointment : 
•'  We  thought  we  should  be  able  to  see  the  celebrated  Miss  Mc- 
'  Auley,  of  whom  such  wondciful  reports  arc  being  circulated." 
"  Of  Miss  McAuIey  ?"  returned  the  Foundress  ;  "  why,  she  is  a 
most  common-place  person,  I  assure  you." 

"  But,"  said  another  of  the  party,  "  did  she  not  build  this  house, 
and  devote  her  fortune  to  the  poor  <"' 

"  The  botise  was  built  by  architects  and  workmen,"  was  the  re- 
ply ;  "  and  if  you  hear  any  more  fine  things  about  Miss  McAuley, 
do  not  credit  them,  for  she  is  quite  incapable  of  doing  any  thing 
worthy  of  notice." 

The  ladies  retired,  congratulating  themselves  that  they  were  the 
first  to  discover  how  erroneously  the  public  estimated  Miss  Mc- 
Auley's  labors  and  sacrifices.  Respect  for  the  humility  of  her 
jj^other  prevented  the  Sister  who  accompanied  them  from  informing 
them,  that  the  Eeligious  who  sat  in  the  community-room,  her  ban- 
daged feet  resting  on  a  stool,— her  hands  busily  plying  her  knittings 
needles,  lest  she  should  involuntarily  lose  a  moment  of  her  precious 
time,  and  her  mind,  no  doubt,  "musing  on  many  things"  concerning 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  eouls,— was  the  person  whose 
fame  drew  them  thither,  but  who,  unconscious  of  her  innate  worth, 
was  the  most  humble  and  unpretending  member  in  the  Institute. 

On  one  occasion,  happening  to  reprove  a  sister  a  little  sternly  in 
the  presence  of  others,  a  few  hours  aflu.,  she  sent  for  all  who  had 
beard  the  reproof,  and  in  their  presence,  humbly  knelt  to  ask  pa^ 


it  in  as  few 
tus  about  the 
:  "  God  hath 
li  a  word  him 
rpose  in  these 

I  person  of  no 
id  to  viat  her, 
OS  in  the  feet, 
gh  the  house, 
I  one  of  them 
3,  with  evident 

ated  Miss  Mc- 
rcuiated." 
"  why,  she  is  a 

uild  this  house, 

sn,"  was  the  re- 
Mi8s  McAuley, 
iomg  any  thing 

t  they  were  the 
ated  Miss  Mc- 
mmility  of  her 
1  from  informing 
r-room,  her  ban- 
ng  her  knitting- 
,  of  her  precious 
ngs"  concerning 
lie  person  whose 
er  innate  worth, 
the  Institute, 
little  sternly  in 
for  all  who  had 
Icnelt  to  ask  par* 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINB  MCAULEY, 


don  of  her  whom  she  uad  corrected.  The  Religious,  amazed  at 
this  deep  humilitv,  bleRsed  God  foi  baring  giren  them  a  Superior 
who  was  able  "  to  do  and  to  teach." 

Endowed  with  all  the  rare  qualities  requisite  for  governing  others, 
she  always  believed  herself  unequal  to  the  task.  When  her  first 
term  of  oflSce  expired,  she  entreated  permission  to  resign  her 
•  authority  to  some  one  more  ca]  le  of  exercising  it ;  but  neither 
the  Archbishop  nor  the  community  would  hear  of  it.*  From  the 
first,  she  sought  to  evade  the  dignity  of  Superior,  and  when 
obliged  by  obedience  to  accept  it,  she  forbade  the  Sisters  to  prac- 
tise in  her  regard  many  demonstration^  of  respectf  in  use  in  other 
Institutes.  Some  years  later,  it  being  represented  to  her,  that  if 
these  little  points  of  conventual  etiquette  were  habitually  omitted, 
discipline  might  suffer,  she  permitted  them  to  be  practised. 

One  of  her  first  companions  had  a  habit  of  addressing  her  as 
"  Ma'am,"  or  "  Madam."  This  title  from  one  of  her  children  she 
could  not  endure.  "  Well,  what  shall  I  say  1"  asked  the  Sister ; 
"  How  shall  I  address  you  V  "  Say  'yes,'  or  '  no,'  very  politely," 
rejoined  the  Foundress  ;  "  that  will  be  quite  suflScient." 

When  it  was  first  discussed  among  the  friends  of  the  Order  to 
send  an  appeal  to  Rome  to  have  Catherine  McAuley  declared  Ven- 
erable, several  were  of  opinion  that  she  would  use  her  power  in 
heaven  to  prevent  this.  A  Religious,  who  witnessed  several  cures 
wrought  by  her  relics,  writes  : 

"  Wo  often  8mil(  at  wLat  we  believe  to  be  Reverend  Mother 
McAuley's  plan.  She  cannot  find  it  in  her  heart  to  leave  the  suf- 
ferer in  paiu,  while  she  seems  equally  deternuned  to  lead  the  hidden 
life,  and,  therefore,  she  obtains  the  cure,  but  in  such  a  manner  that 
we  cannot  prove  it  to  be  done  by  her ;  she  obtams  it  certainly,  but 
not  inatqntaneously." 

This  extract  from  the  letter  of  one|  who  knew  and  loved  her,  is 
a  beautiful  tribute  to  her  compassionate  charity  and  her  profound 

•  Suporiom  are  chosen  trlenniMly  in  the  Order  of  Meroy.  The  election  takes 
plnoe  during  the  Octavo  of  tlio  AsoenBion,  probiibly  beoanno  it  wnH  during  tiist 
period  that  MattiiiLH  wna  olioscn  to  tlie  apostlcHhip,  as  wo  road  in  the  Acts, 

t  Sncli  aa  the  KeligiouB  all  rising  when  tlie  Superior  entera  the  room,  ifco. 

t  Mother  Mary  Vinocnt,  Hosoommon. 


; 


mmm 


272 


LIFK  OF  OATHEBINBl  MCAULET. 


hnmUity.  The  opinion  expressed  that  she  will  work  against  her 
own  beatification,  reminds  us  of  something  similar  related  in  the 
Life  of  St.  Vincent. 

A  gentleman  having  told  an  old  galley-slave,  who  remembered 
the  Saint,  that  Father  Vincent  was  about  to  be  beatified,  was  aur 
swered  by  an  incredulous  smile. 

"  You  do  not  believe  it,"  said  the  gentleman  ;  "  do  yon  not 
think  Monsieur  Vincent  was  holy  enough  to  deserve  this  honor  ?" 
"  Holy  enough  ?  Yes,  but  Father  Vincent  will  never  allow  it ;  he 
was  too  humble." 

All  the  Doctors  of  the  Sorbonno  could  not  pronounce  a  more 
eloquent  eulogium  on  this  Apostle  of  Charity. 

Mother  McAuley  strove,  by  yielding  as  much  as  possible  to 
others,  to  practise  obedience.  She  was  a  most  punctual  observer 
of  rule,  and  was  ever  submissive  to  her  ecclesiastical  Superiors, 
Lest,  amid  her  engrossing  occnpationa,  she  should  forget  her  own 
perfection,  she  ordered  a  Sister  to  admonish  her  whenever  she 
perceived  her  to  fail  in  any  thing  whatever.  This,  the  zealous 
Sister  scrupulously  did  ;  and  whenever  the  Foundress  happened  to 
be  absent,  though  on  the  most  urgent  duty,  she  would  make  atone- 
ment with  the  greatest  humility  and  sweetness,  when  reminded  of 
her  r-iintentional  defect  by  her  spiritaal  daughter. 

On^  day,  having  mentioned  some  suggestion  to  the  Archbishop 
with  which  he  did  not  seem  inclined  to  comply,  she  immediately 
changed  the  subject.  On  his  departure,  a  Sister  present  said  in 
a  tone  of  great  disappointment : 

"  Now,  Reverend  Mother,  that's  always  the  way  with  you.  No 
matter  how  anxious  you  are  about  a  thing,  when  Dr.  Murray 
comes,  you  agree  to  all  he  says  without  asking  him  a  second 
time." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Foundress,  "  and  if  he  were  to  tell  me  to  have 
this  house  pulkd  down,  and  to  build  it  up  another  way,  I  should 
set  about  it  immediately." 

"  What  I  pull  down  this  house,  after  all  your  trouble  ?" 

"  No  trouble  is  too  great,  when  obedience  is  concerned,"  was  the 
reply. 

Rigorous  to  herself,  she  desired  that  the  Sisters  should  disre- 


>rk  against  her 
related  in  the 

0  remembered 
atified,  was  an* 

"do  yon  not 
e  this  honor  ?" 
er  allow  it ;  he 

ononnce  a  more 

as  possible  to 
nctaal  obserrer 
tical  Superiors, 
forget  her  own 
r  whenever  she 
lis,  the  zealous 
3ss  happened  to 
aid  make  atone* 
len  reminded  of 

the  Archbishop 
she  immediately 
present  said  in 

'  with  you.    No 

in  Dr.  Murray 

him  a  second 

tell  me  to  haro 
ir  way,  I  should 

)uble  ?" 
icrned,"  was  the 

8  should  disre- 


LIFE  or  CATHEBINB  MOAUIJST. 


273 


gard  the  temporal  conveniences,  bat  nothing  could  exceed  her  kind- 
ness to  the  sick,  whom  she  sought  to  relieve  by  every  contrivance 
the  heart  of  a  fond  mother  could  suggest.  If  a  Sister  had  a  slight 
cold,  or  a  bad  appetite,  or  looked  pale,  she  noted  it,  and  forthwith 
procured  change  of  air,  or  whatever  other  remedy  seemed  best 
adapted.  As  soon  as  the  least  delicacy  became  apparent,  she  sought 
,  the  remedy,  never  waiting  till  the  sufferer  was  beyond  cure.  Her 
letters  teem  with  such  passages  as  these  : 

"  Sister  A has  had  a  restless  night."  "  Sister  C did  not 

sleep  till  near  four  this  morning."    "  Sister  E has  just  that  sort 

of  cough  that  change  of  air  removes,  but  as  she  has  had  it  rather 
too  long,  she  must  go  to  Carlow  for  a  few  days."  These  show  the 
minute  care  she  bestowed  on  all  who  confided  their  health  and 
happiness  to  her  keeping.  Of  her  own  sufferings,  she  speaks  just 
about  as  much  as  she  does  of  her  interior  graces. 

Her  love  of  poverty  was  quite  conspicuous.  Careful  to  have  her 
exterior  dress  suited  to  tl\e  dignity  of  her  state,  her  under-clotbiag 
was  of  ''  '  meanest  deso-iption,  and  she  always  chose  for  herself 
whatever  w^o  moot  'i;convenient.  She  made  and  mended  every 
article  of  her  clothing,  though,  having  no  time  during  the  day,  she 
was  generally  obliged  to  steal  somewhat  from  the  night  for  this 
purpose.  She  made  a  regulation  that  all  the  Sisters  should  learn 
to  make  their  own  clothing,  saying  that  poor  people  always  did  so, 
and  that  Religious,  who  are  poor  for  the  love  of  God,  ought  not 
to  allow  themselves  to  be  outstripped  by  such  as  are  poor  by  ac- 
cident. Labor  she  considered  an  essential  ingredient  of  true 
poverty.  At  first,  she  would  allow  no  recreation  after  dinner, 
sayiug,  that  being  poor  people,  "  we  ought  to  work  all  day  like 
the  poor,"  but  as  the  Archbishop  considered  this  arrangement 
rather  too  severe,  she  permitted  a  short  recreation  between  dinner 
and  office,  as  seen  by  the  letter  in  which  she  details  the  duties  or 
the  day.  She  waj  very  particular  that  the  strictest  economy 
should  be  observed  in  every  department  of  God's  House,  as  she 
called  the  convent,  not  from  'hriftiness  of  disposition,  b«t  from 
zeal  for  the  perfect  observance  of  poverty.  '♦  Religious  houses," 
she  would  say,  "  arc  houses  of  poverty,  not  of  plenty."  Even 
in  her  care  of  the  sick,  she  was  mindful  of  this  virtue,  and  wheu 

12* 


«■ 


374 


LIPB  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


a  phTsician  prescribed  change  of  air  for  her  beloTBd  niece,  Mary 
Teresa,  there  being  then  no  second  convent  of  the  Order,  she 
made  him  this  memorable  reply  : 

"  Doctor,  will  yon  be  kind  enoagh  to  select  remedies  suitable 
for  poor  people.  We  may,  indeed,  be  able  to  procure  necessaries, 
or  even  comforts  for  oar  inralids,  but  we  could  hardly  afford  to 
take  lodgings  for  them,  and  the  Sisters  who  would  be  required  to 
nurse  them." 

Her  meals  were  so  scanty,  that  those  who  sat  near  her  in  the 
refectory  described  them  as  "  nominal."  From  a  spirit  of  charity 
and  humility,  she  generally  carred  for  the  whole  community,  and 
consequently  all  had  nearly  finished  dinner  before  sho  could  com- 
mence.  She  rarely  had  a  cell  to  her  own  use;  and  when  she  had, 
she  was  ready  to  yield  it  up  for  any  one's  accommodation.  When 
new  Sisters  arrived,  if  there  happened  not  to  be  cells  enoagh  for 
all,  she  would  give  hers  to  one  of  them,  and  take  her  rest  in  an 
old  arm-chair  of  Mr.  Callahan's,  that  remained  in  the  infirmary. 
When  founding  convents,  she  chose  the  poorest  mode  of  travelling, 
and  her  bed  was  generally  the  bare  boards.  She  never  waited  till 
the  convent  was  made  comfortable.  So  g^eat  and  so  well  known 
was  her  confidence  in  the  boundless  goodness  and  mercy  of  God, 
that  the  late  Bishop  of  Cork  always  styled  her  "  The  Sister  of 
Divine  Providence." 

She  continually  exhorted  the  Sisters  to  small  acts  of  mortifica* 
tion,  saying  that  it  was  rarely  in  their  power  to  practise  great 
ones  ;  while  small  ones  were  always  within  their  reach.  She  said 
that  the  Sisters  should  let  no  day  pass  without  practising  in  the 
refectory  "little,  imperceptible  acts  of  mortification,"  but  only 
Bach  as  were  not  calculated  to  injure  the  health,  which  our  duty 
to  our  neighbor  obliges  us  to  preserve  ;  and  she  gave  them  a  list 
of  mortifications  of  this  nature.  *'  Little  unseen  mortifications," 
said  she,  "  when  habitual,  are  better  calculated  to  subdue  nature, 
than  rigid  austerities  practised  but  rarely  ;  and  these  being 
unknown  save  to  God,  have  a  grea^  advantage  over  those 
which  often  excite  vanity  by  their  very  ardiiousncss."  The  first 
•nd  greater*,  of  all  mortifications,  she  considered  to  be  fidelity  to 
the  common  life,  and  unless  a  Sister  was  able  to  rise  at  the  ap* 


J 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULBY. 


276 


id  niece,  Mary 
he  Order,  she 

nedies  suitable 
ire  necessaries, 
irdly  afford  to 
be  required  to 

near  her  in  the 

ipirit  of  charity 

iommnnity,  and 

8h«!  could  com- 

when  she  had, 

jation.    When 

;ells  enough  for 

her  rest  in  an 

the  infirmary. 

le  of  travelling, 

lerer  waited  till 

so  well  known 

mercy  of  God, 

'The  Sister  of 

3ts  of  mortifica* 

practise  great 

sach.     She  said 

ractising  in  the 

ion,"  but  only 

which  our  duty 

rave  them  a  list 

mortifications," 

subdue  nature, 

md  these  being 

age   over  those 

ess."    The  first 

to  be  fidelity  to 

rise  at  the  ap- 


pointed time,  be  content  with  the  common  fare,  and  apply  diligently 
to  her  duty,  she  would  give  her  no  permission  to  practise  other 
mortifications. 

Her  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  intense.  She 
deemed  it  a  high  privilege  to  live  day  and  night  under  the  same 
roof  with  Jesus  hidden  in  the  Adorable  Sacrament  of  his  love. 
•  She  ordained  that  meditation,  office,  eyo'-.ens,  etc.,  be  made  in 
choir,  that  frequent  visits  be  made  daily  •  common,  and  that  no 
considerable  portion  of  the  day  be  allowed  to  elapse  without 
"  paying  court  to  Jesus  on  the  throne  of  His  love."  The  Rules 
beantifally  express  her  sentiments  on  this  subject  : 

"  In  all  thcu*  sufferings  and  anxieties,  in  all  their  fears,  afflictions, 
and  temptations,  the  Sisters  shall  seek  consolation  at  the  foot  of 
the  altar,  where  He  lovingly  in\  ites  them,  in  these  words  :  '  Come 
to  Me,  all  you  who  labor  and  are  burdened,  and  I  will  refresh  you." 
It  grieved  her  to  see  that  any  Sister  absented  herself  through 
Bcropulosity  from  this  heavenly  banquet,  and  she  took  great  pains 
to  correct  the  rigorous  views  sometimes  held  of  our  meek  and 
merciful  Saviour.  "  Without  the  Blessed  Sacrament,"  said  she, 
"  perseverance  is  impossible.  It  is  by  means  of  the  graces  received 
therein,  that  our  spiritual  life  is  maintained,  and  that  we  are  en- 
abled to  persevere  in  our  holy  state."  The  -number  of  days  of  gen- 
eral communion  were  usually  four  or  five  a  week.  At  times  of 
special  devotion,  as  the  Octave  of  Corpus  Christi,  the  retreat 
before  profession,  etc.,  the  Sisters,  with  the  permission  of  their 
director,  communicated  daily.  Mother  McAuley  was  never  absent 
from  Holy  Communion  on  the  appointed  days,  but  such  was  her  love 
of  the  common  life,  that  she  never  approached  the  Holy  Table  at 
other  times.  When  travelling  on  days  of  general  communion,  she 
thought  nothing  of  fasting  till  after  one,  and  walking  several  miles 
in  the  snow,  as  she  did  in  Limerick,  1837,  rather  than  lose  once 
the  happiness  of  communicating.  She  remarked  of  converts,  that 
many  of  them  did  not  seem  fully  to  comprehend  the  instructions 
given  them  until  they  Lad  received  the  Holy  Sacraments,  after 
which  their  doubts  and  difficultns^isappeared.  She  was  solicitoos 
that  the  Sisters  should  avail  themselves  of  every  opportunity  of 
instructing  the  poor  in  the  nature  of  the  Bacramenta,  and  of  ex- 


:<  : 


\ 


276 


I,IPE  OP  CATHERINE  JJCAULET. 


horting  them  to  approach  them  frequently,  and  with  dae  disposip 
tions,  saying  that  the  happiness  of  the  poor,  here  and  hereafter, 
depended  on  this.  The  chapel  and  the  choir  she  had  kept  iu  the 
neatest  order,  appropriately  bat  not  very  richly  decorated.  The 
music  to  be  performed  on  feast-days,  and  at  Benediction,  she  re- 
quired the  Sisters  to  practise  very  carefully,  and  appomted  a 
special  time  for  this,  as  for  every  other  duty.  She  desired  that 
every  thing  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment should  breathe  an  air  of  reverent  piety,  and  directed  that 
the  Sisters  should  enter  the  chapel,  as  it  were  cautiously  and 
noiselessly  ;  that  the  solemn  stillness  should  not  be  disturbed; 
if  possible,  even  by  quickness  of  movement  or  the  rustling  of  gar- 
ments. She  used  to  remark  that  all  Religious  owed  a  special 
devotion  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  because,  but  for  it,  they  could 
not  persevere  iu  their  vocation;  and  she  would  add,  "  Protestants, 
however  well-disposed,  can  have  no  Religious  community  among 
them,  because  they  have  no  Blessed  Sacrament."  Truly,  in  this 
Adorable  Sacrament,  Jesus  is  the  "  wheat  of  the  elect,  the  wine 
that  maketh  vvgins." 

Mother  McAuley's  sanctity  was  so  perfectly  natural  in  appear* 
ance,  that  it  sat  on  her  like  a  garment.  There  was  nothing  forced 
or  constrained  about  her.  Her  letters,  too,  are  exquisitely  natural ; 
not  a  far-fetched  or  affected  sentence  can  be  found  in  them.  She 
disliked  high-sounding  aspirations  in  prayer,  and  every  thing  that 
savored  of  being  over-wrought.  To  a  Sister  who  had  a  tendency 
to  use  the  sublime  style,  she  observed  that  simple  language  was 
much  more  devotional;  and  in  place  of  something  very  exalted 
which  that  Sister  was  writing,  she  suggested  :  "  Mortify  in  me, 
dear  Jesus,  all  that  is  displeasmg  to  Thee,  and  make  me  according 
to  Thine  own  heart's  desire." 

Such  was  her  spirit  of  sacrifice,  her  ardent  desire  to  suffer  as 
well  as  to  act  for  God,  that  the  heaviest  crosses,  when  laid  upon 
her  shoulders,  forced  from  her  lips,  not  the  language  of  complaint, 
nor  even  of  resignation,  but  the  liturgy  of  praise.  She  seemed, 
from  childhood,  as  if  sent  iuto  the  world  for  the  use  and  benefit 
of  others,  not  for  her  own  ;  and  all  who  knew  her,  concur  in  testi- 
fying thf^t  she  was  the  most  unselfish  of  haman  beings.    Naturally, 


"mm 


th  dne  disposi> 
and  hereaftor, 
id  kept  in  the 
jorated.  The 
liction,  she  re- 
id  appointed  a 
le  desired  that 
Blessed  Sacra- 
I  directed  that 

cautiously  and 
,  be  disturbed; 
rustling  of  gar- 
9wed  a  special 
ir  it,  they  could 
,  "  Protestants, 
umunity  among 
Truly,  in  this 

elect,  the  wine 

tural  in  appear 
18  nothing  forced 
inisitely  natural ; 
d  in  them.  She 
every  thing  that 
a  had  a  tendency 
)le  language  was 
ing  very  exalted 
"  Mortify  in  me, 
ake  me  according 

esire  to  suffer  as 
,  when  laid  upon 
age  of  complaint, 
se.  She  seemed, 
e  use  and  benefit 
er,  concur  in  testl- 
eings.    Naturally, 


LIFE  OP   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


277 


she  possessed  all  ths  beautiful  traits  in  which  the  Irish  character  is 
rich,  without  any  of  the  shades  that  in  too  many  instances  obscure 
or  obliterate  them  ;  supernaturally,  grave  divines  spoke  and  still 
speak  of  her  heroic  sanctity.  But  in  her  "  the  supernatural  com- 
bined with  nature,  instead  of  superseding  it."  Nature  sketched 
what  grace  colored  and  worked  up  to  such  high  perfection,  without 
,  erasing  a  siugle  touch  which  nature,  or  rather  nature's  God,  had 
given  to  her  beautiful  character. 


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3    .   «* 


I: 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


■:"■ 


&i; 


i 


Tlic  First  Brnnch.— The  wreck  off  Diinlcnry  linrbor. — Tlio  excommunication, 
niid  its  consequences. — Sussex-place  House. — Triiils.— Motlier  MoAuley  hiding 
from  the  sheriff. — Her  letters. — A  beautiful  specimen. — Kingstown  convent 
reVmciuished. — KcopcncJ. — Olasthulo. 

KINGSTOWN,  the  beautL^ul  harbor  of  Dublin,  was  the  first  place 
outside  the  capital  to  which  the  Foundress  extended  the  bene- 
Cts  of  her  Institute.  Many  years  previous,  circumstances  had  oc- 
curred which  were  peculiarly  deleterious  in  their  effects  on  the 
poorer  classes  of  this  delightful  suburb.  A  richly  freighted  vessel 
was  wrecked  in  sight  of  Dunleary*  harbor,  and  though  not  a  pas- 
senger was  left  alive  to  tell  the  fate  of  the  crew,  the  cargo  was 
uninjured,  and  the  greater  portion  of  it  could  bo  traced  to  living 
owners.  The  clergy  forbade  their  flock  to  appropriate  any  of  it, 
and  urged  the  sailors  arid  fishermen  in  ^.hc  vicinity  to  assist  in  sav- 
ing it  for  its  rightful  possessors.  Several  disobeyed,  and  having 
seized  as  much  booty  as  they  could  carry,  refused  to  restore  any. 
The  priests  were  obliged  to  resort  to  very  severe  measures.  An 
excommunication  was  threatened,  and,  if  we  mistake  not,  issued, 
against  the  plunderers,  who,  continuing  obstinate,  reared  their  chil- 
dren in  ignorance  of  that  religioiv  whoso  precepts  they  refused  to 
obey,  and  separated  themselves,  in  reality,  if  not  in  name,  from  the 
fold  of  Christ.  Several  clergymen  represented  to  tho  Foundress 
the  spiritual  destitution  and  moral  degradation  of  these  poor  crea- 
tures, who,  though  within  a  few  miles  of  the  refined  capital,  were 
leading  a  half  savage  life,  as  though  they  were  beyond  the  pale  of 
Christianity  and  civilization.    She  visited  Kingstown,  and  found 

Kingstown  w«b  culled  Dunlonry  previous  to  the  visit  of  Qoorge  IV.  in  1880. 
Cove  heoemo  Qurtnttown,  when  luii  royal  niece  landed  there  some  tnirty  yean 
later. 


mmnnicntion, 
jAuley  hiding 
;own  convent 


le  first  place 

2d  the  bene- 

ces  had  oo- 

ects  on  the 

pchted  vessel 

h  not  a  pas- 

e  cargo  was 

id  to  Uring 

;e  any  of  it, 

ssist  in  sav- 

|and  having 

•estorc  any. 

isurcs.    An 

not,  issaed, 

their  chil- 

rcfused  to 

[e,  froin  the 

Foaudress 

poor  crea- 

,pital,  were 

;he  pale  of 

and  found 

IV.  in  1890. 
I  tiiirty  yaara 


-immmim 

T|-rliiin  niiW 


ssss 


LIFE  OF  CATHEKINE  MCAULET. 


279 


the  reality  much  worse  than  the  description.  There  being  no 
Catholic  school  there,  Rev.  Mr.  Walsh,*  one  of  the  curates,  ear- 
nestly besought  her  to  establish  ouc  ;  and  to  this  she  consented, 
provided  that  the  people  would  co-operate  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
share  the  expenss  with  her.  The  pastor,  who  was  old  and  delicate, 
for  a  long  time  refused  to  assist  except  by  his  patronage,  but  he 
at  last  ojfered  "  to  do  something."  Father  Walsh,  interpreting 
'  this  too  liberally,  advised  her  to  take  it  as  the  promise  o^  a  man 
of  few  words,  who  usually  did  more  than  he  said  ;  and  the  wretched 
state  of  the  poor  people  had  so  strongly  excited  her  sympathy,  that 
she  could  not  refuse.  At  her  own  expense  she  purchased  Sussex- 
place  House,  a  beautiful  residence  on  the  beach,  with  ground  suf- 
ficient for  schools.  The  latter  once  commenced,  progressed  rap- 
idly, and  ill  1 834  the  Sistcro  were  able  to  undertake  the  education 
of  three  hundred  children,  for  it  was  through  their  innocent  hearts 
that  they  hoped  to  reach  their  hardened  parents. 

Sussex-place  House  became  St.  Patrick's  Convent.  About  six 
Sisters  usually  resided  there, — schools,  visitation  of  the  sick,  and 
instruction  of  adults  being  their  principal  occupations.  A  com- 
plete change  was  soon  visible  in  the  poor.  Things  weut  on  hap- 
pily for  about  four  years.  Meanwhile,  the  debt  contracted  in 
erecting  the  school  house  continued  to  accumulate,  no  local  efforts 
being  made  to  liquidate  it.  This  and  other  circumstances  com- 
bined to  make  St.  Patrick's,  notwithstanding  the  good  effected,  a 
source  of  unceasing  anxiety  to  the  Foundress.  It  was  not  always 
easy  to  select  Sisters  suited  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  place,  and 
a  change  was  not  made  without  difiSculty. 

Once,  when  Mother  McAuley,  who  had  duties  to  perform  to- 
wards hei'  spiritual,  children  as  well  as  towards  the  crude  fishing 
people  of  the  rocks,  deemed  it  expedient  to  recall  a  Sister  to  St. 
Mary's,  one  of  the  clergymen  became  so  indignant  that  he  ex- 
pressed his  disapprobation  of  the  Foundress  in  no  very  gentle 
terms,  and  withdrew  his  patronage  from  the  schools.  When  the 
presiding  Religious  remonstrated  with  him,  representiug  the  inter- 
est the  Foundress  had  taken  in  Kingstown  schools,  and  the  expense 
at  which  she  had  sustained  them,  he  angrily  retorted  : 

*  Aaerwnrdt  Arohbisliop  of  Uallfiuc,  N.  S. 


in 


280 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


r 


§- 


I 


s; 


i 


u  • 


V 


i' 


fj 
? 


P;: 


i 


&- 


i-'j 


woman  make  of  hm 


"  What  better  use  could  the  rich  old 
money  I" 

This  was  true  enough  ;  bat  the  time  had  come  when  the  rich 
woman  was  ^>oor.  She  had  made  herself  friends  of  the  mammon 
of  iniquity,  she  had  lent  her  money  to  the  Lord.  If  her  face  was 
not  yet  wrinkled,  her  purse  was,  and  iu  future  she  would  be  obliged 
to  look  for  some  co-operation.  Besides,  the  Church  had  never  re- 
garded the  education  of  the  poor  as  the  peculiar  duty  of  '•  rich 
old  women."  Pasters,  surely,  have  some  little  to  do  with  it.  At 
the  very  time  when  the  Kingstown  pastor  accused  the  Foundress 
of  hoarding  up  wealth  of  fabulous  amount,  she  was  obliged,  in 
order  to  build  an  addition  to  the  House  of  Mercy,  to  draw  money 
from  the  convent  funds,  a  step  which  only  an  extraordinary  emer- 
gency could  justify  ;  nor  could  she  pay  the  five  hundi-ed  pounds  of 
the  school  debt  which  remained  unpaid,  without  relinquishing  her 
orphan  or  servants'  asylum,  which,  of  course,  shp  would  not  think 

of.    The  pastor.  Rev.  Mr.  S ,  threatened  to  place  her  in  the 

bands  of  the  law, — a  strange  mode,  no  doubt,  of  showing  his  ap- 
preciation of  the  reformation  she  had  wrought  in  his  parish.  In 
this  difficulty  she  consulted  her  venerated  friend,  the  Lord  Bishop 

of  Dromore,  who  advised  her,  in  case  Rev.  Mr.  S refused  to 

come  to  any  accommodation,  to  relinquish  St.  Patrick's,  for  a 
while,  at  least. 

Meantime,  the  Right  Honorable  Sidney  Herbert,  through  the 
medium  of  Mrs.  Versecoyle,  a  pious,  charitable  lady,  had  given 
ground  for  a  convent  and  schools  in  the  neighboring  parish  of 
Booterstown,  and  taken  upon  himself  u,  large  share  of  the  expense 
of  their  erection.  A  committee  of  gentlemen,  in  this  wealthy 
suburb,  used  to  dispense  food  and  clothing  to  their  poor  neighbors, 
and  this  duty  the  gentlemen  were  anxious  to  resign  to  the  Sisters 
of  Mercy.  Eariy  in  1838,  the  convent  was  opened  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  St.  Anne,  mother  of  the  Blessed  Vkgin,  to  wfiom  the 
Foundress  was  greatly  devoted.  Schools,  orphanage,  and  visiter 
tiou  of  the  sick,  were,  and  are,  the  principal  charges  of  the  Sisters 
at  Saint  Aoue's,  Booterstown. 

From  the  period  of  the  foundations,  began  the  lively  correspond- 
ence the  Foundress  kept  up,  until  a  few  days  before  her  death, 


LIFE  OF  CATHEKINE  MCAULLT. 


"•i^w-- 


^ke  of  Im 

en  the  rich 
iie  mammon 
er  face  was 
i  be  obliged 
ad  never  re- 
ty  of  '•  rich 
;'ith  it.  At 
B  Foundress 
;  obliged,  in 
draw  money 
iinary  emer- 
d  pound.!  of 
jaishing  her 
id  not  think 
i  her  in  the 
wing  his  ap- 

parish.  In 
jord  Bishop 
refused  to 

ick's,  for  a 

through  the 

[,  had  given 

|g  parish  of 

the  expense 

lis  wealthy 

neighbors, 

the  Sisters 

ler  the  pat- 

wbom  the 

and  visits- 

the  Sisters 

I  correspond- 
her  death, 


withjier  absent  children.  A  few  words  on  the  general  character 
of  ber  letters  will  not  be  misplaced  here. 

The  reader  will  occasionally  find  in  them  touches  of  the  wit  of  a 
De  Sevign6,  and  the  polished  style  of  a  Montague.  Good  sense, 
solid  piety,  joyful  resignation,  intense  love  and  compassion  for  the 
poor,  with  holy  ard  tender  friendship  for  those  united  to  her  by 
ties  of  blood  or  spiritual  kindred,  are  their  prevailing  character- 
istics. Dashed  oflF;  as  they  were,  in  moments  snatched  from  the 
most  important  occupations, — some  written  in  the  silence  of  the 
night,  some  at  the  couch  of  a  dying  Sister,  some  in  the  solitude  of 
retreat,  some  during  the  mirthful  hour  of  recreation, — they  may  be 
regarded  as  a  compendium  of  her  history  for  the  last  few  years  of 
her  life,  the  more  authentic  because  from  her  own  pen.  Intended, 
in  general,  for  no  eyes  save  those  of  the  beloved  friends  to  whom 
they  are  addressed,  they  are  often  strictly  confidential,  and  the 
calm,  dignified  Foundress  seems  almost  lost  in  the  weak  woman, 
oppressed  and  all  but  crushed  beneath  her  heavy  crosses.  One 
trait,  which  is  very  remarkable,  is  the  unselfishness  which  reigns 
throughout  them.  The  least  troubles  of  her  children  have  her 
warm,  ready  sympathy,  condolence,  and  assistance,  even  when  her 
own  heart  seems  nearly  broken.  She  first  grieves  with  them,  then 
directs  their  view  to  the  holy  motives  of  consolation  faith  proposes. 
If  she  reproves,  her  correction  is  quite  covered  with  sweetness  and 
compassion.  Her  pills  are  not  merely  sugar-coated  :  they  are  so 
mixed  with  comfits  that  their  medicinal  qualities  have  to  be  sought 
in  their  effects.  Look  at  the  following,  for  instance — perhaps  yoa 
will  read  it  more  than  once  before  you  can  realize  that  it  is  an 
antidote  for  very  perceptible  self-complacency  : 

"  Sister  Mary has  delighted  me,  describing  the  instructions 

you  give.  Show  them  forth  in  your  aclioni*,  us  much  as  you  can, 
my  ever  dear  child  ;  and  your  Institute  will  outdo  us  all,  please 
God." 

She  sympathizes  in  the  joys  of  her  children,  as  in  their  sorrows  ; 
but  she  teaches  thorn  to  regard  all  their  successes  as  pure  gifts  of 
God's  goodness,  wn::h  ought  to  excite  in  the  recipients  "lively 
gratitude  and  profou;id  humility." 

"I  cannot  tell  you,  n>y  dearest  bister,  how  much  it  rejoices  mo 


.iJII^@£E.'3:%£ 


TiSsw^sMi^: 


282 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


{ 


to  hear  of  your  spiritual  and  temporal  prosperity.  May  God  grant 
you  itlvely  gratitude  and  profound  humility.  Then,  indeed,  you 
will  be  a  child  of  benediction." 

The  woman  of  business  and  the  woman  of  piety  are  seldom  sepa- 
rated in  these  letters.  Some  passages,  especially  in  her  letters  of 
condolence,  are,  perhaps,  unsurpassed,  for  pathos  and  beauty,  by 
any  thing  of  their  kind  in  English.  Others  are  so  irresistibly 
humorous,  that  they  cannot  fail  to  wreathe  into  smiles  the  most 
serious  countenance. 

In  1838,  legal  proceedings  were  commenced  against  Catherine 
McAuley  for  the  recovery  of  the  debt  contracted  in  erecting  the 
Kingstown  schools.  Wisely  considering  that  discretion  is  the  bet- 
ter part  of  valor,  she  kept  prudently  aloof  when  the  sheriff  was  iu 
the  vicinity.  The  talismanic  bit  of  paper,  inviting  her  to  accept 
the  hospitality  of  the  debtors'  prison,  was  indeed  handed  in ;  but 
the  prisoner  elect  remained  quietly  in  her  hiding-place.  "  I  am 
now,"  she  writes,  "  hiding  from  a  person  who  says  he  wants  to 
serve  a  paper  personally  on  me.  I  am  really  afraid  to  stay  five 
minutes  in  the  parlor.  Every  man  that  appears  near  the  premises 
is  kept  at  an  awful  distance,  and  subjected  to  a  close  scrutiny  by 
my  dear  Sister  Teresa,*  lest  he  should  be  the  dreaded  process-man. 
This  state  of  things,  as  you  may  suppose,  has  caused  more  laugh- 
ing than  crying  here." 

While  the  Foundress  was  establishing  a  convent  in  Limerick,  in 
autumn,  1838,  St.  Patrick's  was  closed.  Ou  learning  that  matters 
had  come  to  a  crisis,  she  sent  the  following  beautiful  letter  to  the 
Religious  who  had  been  presiding  there.  Sister  Mary  Teresa 
White  :t 

"  How  can  I  ever  sufficiently  thank  you,  my  beloved  child,  for 
the  kind,  cautious  manner  in  which  you  communicate  this  painful 
news  ?  Above  all,  I  bless  and  praise  God  for  your  recollection  of 
the  Ever  Adorable  Sacrament.  To  avert  this  affliction,  we  have 
done  all  that  justice  and  prudence  demand.  If  it  must  come,  how- 
ever, let  us  receive  it  as  the  holy  will  of  God  for  us.  It  will 
mortify  us,  to  be  sure  ;  but  that  will  be  salutary,  please  God.    Be 


*  The  portresB. 


t  Now  SuperiorMS  of  the  Convent  of  Meroy,  CUfden. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


m 


Qod  grant 
indeed,  you 

leldom  sepor 
er  letters  of 
.  beauty,  by 
I  irresistibly 
ies  the  most 

3t  Catherine 
erecting  the 
m  is  the  bet- 
heriff  was  iu 
er  to  accept 
ided  in;  but 
ice.    "I  am 
he  wants  to 
.  to  stay  five 
the  premises 
'I  scrutiny  by 
process-man. 
more  laugh- 
Limerick,  in 
that  matters 
letter  to  the 
[ary  Teresa 

[cd  child,  for 
|e  this  painful 
ecoUection  of 
jlion,  we  have 
[t  come,  how- 
US.    It  will 
so  God.    Be 

eroy,  CUfden. 


a  good  soldier  in  the  hour  of  trial.  Do  not  be  aflBicted  for  your 
poor — their  Heavenly  Father  will  provide  for  them  ;  and  during 
your  whole  life  you  will  have  the  same  opportunity  of  fulfilling 
your  obligations,  I  charge  yon,  my  very  dear  child,  not  to  be 
sorrowful,  but  rather  to  rejoice,  if  we  are  to  suflfer  this  most  humili- 
ating trial.  God  will  not  be  angry,  be  assured  of  that ;  and  is  not 
that  enough  ?  I  feel  it  would  be  giving  you  no  consolation  were 
I  to  say,  '  God  will  not  be  displeased  with  you,  though  He  may 
with  me.'  He  will  not  be  displeased  with  me  either,  for  He  knows 
that  I  would  rather  be  cold  and  hungry  than  that  His  poor  iu 
Kingstown,  or  elsewhere,  should  be  deprived  of  any  consolations  in 
my  power  to  afford  them.  But,  in  the  present  case,  we  have  done 
all  that  circumstances  justified,  and  even  more." 

The  Kingstown  people  were  so  dissatisfied  with  the  withdrawal 

of  the  Sisters,  that  Rev.  Mr.  S was  obliged  to  invite  their 

return.  That  this  reverend  gentleman  was  not  a  person  with  whom 
it  was  easy  to  come  to  terms,  the  following  passage  iu  a  letter  of 
Mother  McAuley's  will  show.  The  letter  is  dated  February,  1839. 

"  A  new  a-^count  from  Kingstown.    Kev.  Mr.  S told  Rev. 

Mr.  Kavanagh,  that  if  the  school-house  were  assigned  for  the  chil- 
dren to  trustees,  the  debt  should  be  paid,  and  a  choir  made  in  the 
parish  chnrch  for  the  Sisters,  if  they  would  return.    To  this.  Father 

Kavanagh  agreed.    Rev.  Mr.  S then  wrote  to  me,  requesting 

that  two  Sisters  would  go  out,  and  select  such  portion  of  the 
church  as  was  deemed  necessary.  Sisters  M.  Teresa  and  Aloysia 
went  on  the  day  appointed.  After  taking  all  their  plan,  ho  re- 
called what  he  had  agreed  on,  and  said,  in  presence  of  Rev.  Mr. 
Walsh,  that,  as  he  had  never  invited  the  Sisters  to  Kingstown,  he 
could  not  be  expected  to  do  what  was  done  for  them  in  other 
places.    I  cannot  describe  Mr.  Kavanagh's  surprise.    He  wrote  to 

Mr.  S ,  expressing  his  astonishment,  and  showed  me  a  copy  of 

the  letter,  which  was  very  strong  indeed.  I  think  it  would  seem 
like  defiance  to  go  there  now,  after  the  parish  priest  telling  the 
Sisters,  in  presence  of  his  curates,  that  he  never  invited  them ! 
Sister  M.  Teresa  could  not  avoid  hinting  that  none  of  them  were 
very  anxious  to  come.    It  is  a  most  perplexing  business." 

It  may  seem  surprising  that  Another  McAuley  could  be  legally 


284 


LIFE   OP   CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


responsible  for  a  debt  contracted  in  erecting  parc^Jial  schools. 
She  became  so  because  of  her  charity.  A  clamorous  creditor  came 
to  her  w'th  the  common  story  of  poverty  and  a  large  family,  and 
she  instantly  paid  him  fifty  pounds,  his  share  of  the  amount  due. 
By  paying  part  of  the  debt,  she  had  acknowledged  herself  a  debtor, 
or,  as  Mr.  S termed  it,  "  committed  herself." 

Finally,  Sussex-place  House  was  sold,  and  the  school  debt  paid. 

Mr.  S applied  for  the  Sisters  again,  but  Mother  McAuley  was 

not  at  all  anxious  to  expose  them  to  fredh  trials,  and  steadily  re- 
fused to  permit  them  to  go  until  certain  conditions  were  complied 
with.  "  I  am  afraid,"  she  writes,  "  that  the  Kingstown  business  is 
going  to  be  settled  ; .  but  the  Sisters  shall  never  go  there,  unless  a 
separate  choir  is  made  for  them  in  the  parish  church." 

This  condition  complied  with,  they  returned  to  Sussex-place, 
which  had  again  to  be  relinquished  for  a  little  while.  Their  third 
attempt  was  more  successful.  Their  convent  is  now  in  Glasthnle, 
at  the  opposite  side  of  the  town.  An  extensive  Magdalen  asylum 
has  been  added  to  their  other  charitable  works,  as  the  Order  ot" 
the  Good  Shepherd  has  not  been  introduced  here. 

The  Kingstown  affairs  were  not  the  only  trials  of  the  Foundress, 
in  1838.  In  1831,  the  Vicar-General  prohibited  the  chaplain  from 
saying  more  than  one  Mass  on  Sundays,  at  St.  Mary's,  and  in  1838 
he  withdrew  him,  and  refused  to  replace  him  on  the  former  terms. 
Add  to  this,  that  the  funds  of  the  House  of  Mercy  became  so  ex- 
hausted, that  she  would  be  obliged  either  to  send  its  inmates  to  the 
poor-house,  or  encroach  on  the  convent  funds  for  their  support. 
With  the  concurrence  of  the  Archbishop,  she  adopted  the  latter 
alternative. 

Many  afflictions,  some  sweet  and  some  bitter,  fa'l  to  the  lot  of 
every  human  being.  The  happy  deaths  of  our  friends  are  sweet  sor- 
rows ;  we  ourselves  love  them  too  well  to  wish  them  back  to  this 
miserable  world.  The  wounds  our  enemies  inflict  are  easily  borne, 
because  they  do  not  wound  the  heart.  But  when  our  friends,  those 
from  whom  we  have  a  right  to  expect  assistance,  encouragement, 
and  protection  ;  those  whom  we  have  carved,  obliged,  and  loved  ; 
those  whose  position  in  our  regard  seems  to  give  as  special  cluiois 


,- Xs.v--',^f'-Tr^'-"aiBlaifci 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE   MCAULET. 


ial  scboolfl. 
editor  came 
family,  aud 
imount  due. 
If  a  debtor, 

I  debt  paid. 
[cAuley  was 
steadily  re- 
re  complied 
a  business  is 
ere,  unless  a 

Sussex-place, 
Their  third 
in  Glasthnle, 
laleu  asylum 
the  Order  of 

e  Foundress, 
laplain  from 
and  in  1838 
brmer  terms, 
ecame  so  ex- 
mates  to  the 
leir  support, 
d  the  latter 

to  the  lot  of 
re  sweet  sor- 
)ack  to  this 
I  easily  borne. 
Friends,  those 
louragcment, 

and  loved ; 

)ecial  oluims 


on  their  charity  and  forbearance  ;  when  these  prove  false,  when 
these  expose  us  to  censure,  when  these  look  coldly  on  us,  when 
they  not  only  desert,  but  ignore  us,  when  they  even  persecute  us, — 
oh  I  this  is  bitter,  bitter  sorrow.  When  v/e  "  ask  a  fish,  and  they 
give  us  a  serpent ;'  when  wc  "  ask  an  egg,  aud  they  reach  us  u 
scorpion  ;"  when  we  lean  on  them,  and  find  they  will  not  sustain 
us  ;  when  we  confide  in  them,  and  they  spurn  us  ;  when  they  see 
'  our  griefs,  and  mock  us, — oh !  this  is  a  cross  under  which  Saints 
may  groan  audibly,  and  be  blameless.  The  insults  of  enemies  and 
indifferent  people  we  Jaugh  at  ;  the  aflSictions  which  come  directly 
from  the  hand  of  God,  as  sickness  or  the  death  of  friends,  are 
beautiful,  pensive  things  in  the  retrosp  ot ;  but  the  injuries  re- 
ceived from  those  we  loved  and  revered,  which  of  us  would  not 
gladly  blot  out  of  our  too  retentive  memories  ?  Verily,  it  is  only 
Jesus  who  willingly  retains  "the  wounds  wherewith  He  was 
wounded  in  the  house  of  His  friends !" 

Mother  McAuley's  trials  with  reference  to  Kingstown  and  the 
chaplaincy,  came  from  persons  whom  she  highly  revered,  whom  shehad 
made  immense  efforts  to  serve,  and  from  whom  she  ought  naturally 
to  expect  encouragement  and  protection.  We  have  seen  how  she 
was  treated  in  the  Kingstown  affair  ;  but  the  chaplaincy  business 
tried  her  still  more  sorely.  Some  spiritual  writer  makes  a  remark 
to  the  effect,  that  when  we  would  fashion  ourselves  into  saints,  our 
strokes  are  like  those  of  an  apprentice,  they  often  miss  their  aim, 
and  are  seldom  very  effective  ;  but  the  strokes  that  God  sends  us 
are  from  the  chisel  of  a  Master.  Tie  knows  when,  and  where,  and 
ho»ir  to  wound  us ;  His  blows  are  all  perfectly  well  directed,  and 
did  we  receive  them  with  the  same  submission  with  which  the  un- 
conscious marble  receives  the  strokes  of  a  great  sculptor,  we  should 
be,  among  ordinary  mortals,  what  the  productions  of  a  Michael 
Angelo  are  among  those  of  ordinary  artists.  Seldom  has  there  ap- 
peared on  earth  such  a  combination  of  sensitiveness  and  affection 
as  was  Catherine  McAuIcy.  As  to  the  first  quality,  God  always 
kept  it  in  exercise  by  the  sufferings  Hij  permitted  His  creatures, 
good  and  bad,  to  inflict  on  her,  and  this  constant  exercise,  far  from 
blunting  it,  made  it  more  acute.     As  to  the  second,  one  by  one  Ho 


286 


LIFE  OF   CATHERINK  MCAULET. 


snatched  from  her  all  she  loved,  so  that  she  wrote  :  "  The  tomb 
seems  never  to  be  closed  in  my  regard."  And  again  :  "  My  earthly 
joys  are  all  cut  down,  thank  God."  It  was  not  so  much  the  daily 
discipline  or  the  nightly  vigil,  the  continual  fast  or  the  unceasing 
labor,  that  made  a  saint  of  Catherine,  as  the  sweet  and  loving  sub- 
mission with  which  she  ever  reposed  under  the  chastening  hand  of 
her  Father  in  Hea^  en.  j 


"  The  tomb 
My  earthly 
:h  the  daily 
e  unceasing 
1  loving  sub- 
ling  hand  of 


?riv,^i  >;-f 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  TuUamore  Foundation. — Sermon  of  Very  Kev.  Dr.  Curtis,  S.  J.— Mother 
Mary  Anno  Doyle. — Fnther  Mathow. — Generosity  of  the  Foundress. — Tul- 
lamore  will  neither  lend  noi  give. — '•  A  bitter  scolding  for  Tullamoro,  and 
three  cheers  for  Carlow." 

FOR  a  branch  of  the  Institute  outside  the  Archdiocese,  Dr. 
Cantwell,  Lord  Bishop  of  Meath,  was  the  first  successful  ap- 
plicant. Miss  Pentony,  a  wealthy,  charitable  lady,  bequeathed  her 
house  aid  an  annuity  to  establish  Sisters  of  Mercy  in  Tullamore, 
her  native  town  ;  and  as  she  was  a  particular  friend  of  Father 
O'Hanlon's,  he  added  his  solicitation  to  that  of  the  zealous  prelate 
to  induce  Mother  McAulcy  to  undertake  this  foundation.  The 
necessary  arrangements  concluded,  Very  Rev.  Dr.  O'Rafferty, 
Vicar-General  of  Meath,  arrived  in  Dublin  to  conduct  the  ap- 
pointed Sisters  to  their  new  home.  They  were  received  with  the 
greatest  delight  by  the  peopb,  who  met  them  in  crowds  far  outside 
the  town,  and  joyfully  conducted  them  to  the  chiirch,  where  all  united 
to  invoke  God's  blessing  on  this  grain  of  mustard-seed,  and  pray 
that  it  might  take  root  and  fructify.  Mother  McAulcy  remained 
a  month,  during  which  she  was  joined  by  two  postulants.  The 
first  house  the  Sisters  occupied  was  close  and  small.  One  of  the 
Sisters,  whose  ideas  of  spaciousness  in  convents  nearly  coincided 
with  those  of,  St.  Peter  Alcantara,*  was  well  pleased  with  the  strait- 
ncss  of  the  cells  and  parlors.  The  Foundress  notices  this  m  a 
pleasant  letter  to  St.  Mary's,  thus  : 

"  Sister  Mary has  met  with  her  beau  ideal  of  a  conventual 

building  at  lost,  for  our  rooms  are  so  small  that  two  cats  could 

*  St.  Peter  Alcantara's  cell  was  only  four  feet  and  a  half  long ;  he  coald 
neither  extend  himself  nor  stand  upright  in  it. 


MliMirti<Bi'""TiMii 


288 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


scarcely  dance  in  them.  The  rest  of  us,  however,  would  flave  no 
objection  to  larger  ones." 

The  corridors  had  steps  here  and  there,  so  that  if  one  walked 
along  too  recollededhj,  there  was  no  slight  danger  of  a  serious 
accident.  Mother  McAuley,  whose  sight  was  beginning  to  grow 
dim,  got  many  a  start  in  these  unlucky  halls.  By  cautiously  look- 
ing out  for  danger,  however,  serious  falls  were  avoided,  and  the 
Sisters  perambulated  the  corridors  as  often  as  necessary,  at  the 
expense  of  a  few  slight  bruises  and  contusions. 

Under  God,  the  prosperity  of  Tullamore  Convent  was  chiefly 
due  to  the  indefatigable  exertions  of  Father  O'Rafiferty,  whose 
interest  in  it  never  flagged,  and  whose  death,  some  years  later,  de- 
prived it  of  its  best  earthly  friend. 

Sister  Mary  Anne  Doyle,  late  Assistant  at  St.  Mary's,  was  ap- 
pointed Superior  of  Tullamore  Convent,  which  was  dedicated  to 
St.  Joseph.  The  following  letter  of  hers  may  prove  as  interesting 
to  the  reader  as  it  did  to  Mother  McAuley  :  --^ 

"  My  dear  Reverend  Mother  : 

"  Knowing  how  anxious  you  will  be  to  hear  that  our  ceremony 
went  on  happily,  I  am  anxious  to  give  you  an  early  account,  lest 
the  papers  should  get  the  start  of  me.  At  two  o'clock,  the  pro- 
cession entered  the  church.  The  crowd  was  truly  awful,  yet  won- 
derful order  and  quiet  prevailed.  We  had  nothing  to  regret  but 
your  absence,  which  I  felt  the  more,  as  I  know  how  delighted  you 
would  be  to  hear  the  objects  of  our  Order  so  beautifully  described 
in  a  sublime  sermon  preached  by  Yery  Rev.  Dr.  Curtis,  S.  J.,  Rec- 
tor of  TuUabeg  College.  I  wish  I  could  give  you  some  idea  of  it. 
His  text  was  :  '  This  is  true  rdigion :  to  visit  the  widow  and 
the  fatherless  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  one's  self  unspot- 
ted from  the  world .'  Reviewing  nearly  every  Order  in  the  Church, 
he  introduced  the  Trappists,  who  were  driven  out  of  France,  and 
to  whom  some  Protestant  gentlemen  had  given  tracts  of  land  so 
barren,  that  neither  the  avarice  of  the  rich  nor  the  misery  of  the 
poor  could  induce  them  to  break  the  soil.  He  described  the  fertile 
appearance  now  presented  where  for  ages  no  sound  had  been  heard 
but  the  whistling  of  the  wind,  or  the  scream  of  the  bird  of  prey. 
In  that  once  desolate  spot,  a  hundred  voices  now  sing  the  praisea 


J 
t 

s 

I 

ii 

P 


'li'lll'iii  I       ilriii 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


3Klv 


Id  nave  no 

one  walked 
)f  a  serious 
ng  to  grow 
tiously  look-  . 
led,  and  the 
isary,  at  the 

was  chiefly 
ferty,  whose 
irs  later,  de- 

iry's,  was  ap- 
dedicated  to 
18  interesting 


)ar  ceremony 
account,  lest 
lock,  the  pro- 
fal,  yet  won- 
Ito  regret  but 
[elighted  you 
illy  described 
I,  S.  J.,  Rec- 
le  idea  of  it. 
widow  and 
self  unspotr 
\n  the  Church, 
France,  and 
of  land  so 
[misery  of  the 
led  the  fertile 
,d  been  heard 
bird  of  prey. 
ig  the  praised 


of  God.*  He  described  the  Order  of  Mercy  for  the  Redemption 
of  Captives,  telling  how  its  members  bound  themselves  by  vow, 
should  gold  fail,  to  lay  their  consecrated  hands  on  the  chains  of  the 
captives,  and  become  slaves  in  their  stead.  He  pictured  the  Alps 
covered  with  unthawing  snow,  where  the  wild  beast  could  not 
dwell,  and  the  Brother  of  St.  Bernard,  accompanied  by  his  faithful 
dog,  seeking  the  perishing  traveller.  In  the  most  appropriate  lan- 
guage he  introduced  whatever  is  most  attractive  in  each  Institute, 
endinrr  with  the  Order  of  Mercy  for  the  redemption,  not  of  captive 
bodies,  but  of  captive  souls,  leaving  nothing  unsaid  that  was  calcu- 
lated to  fix  a  preference  in  the  hearts  and  judgments  of  all  present 
for  the  Order  of  Mercy  as  established  in  our  own  country. 

"  He  complimented  the  Bishop  and  Dr.  O'Rafferty  in  the 
strongest  terms,  though  he  said  he  was  restrained  by  their  pres- 
ence. He  could  not,  he  said,  avoid  picturing  to  himself  a  future 
day,  when  some  parent  would  point  out  to  his  child  the  edifice 
about  to  be  erected,  and  say  :  '  At  such  a  period  a  prelate  ruled 
this  diocese  whose  virtue  added  lustre  to  his  mitre,  who  restored 
religious  worship  in  this  part  of  Ireland  to  a  state  of  splendor  to 
which  for  ages  it  had  been  a  stranger  ;  and  a  subordinate  pastor 
ruled  this  town  who  delighted  in  acts  of  benevolence.  It  was  such 
a  bishop,  it  was  such  a  pastor,  that  introduced  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy  residing  in  that  convent.'  He  exhorted  the  immense  multi- 
tude never  to  prove  ungrateful  for  such  a  blessing.  He  spoke  of 
Abraham  supplicating  God  not  to  destroy  the  sinful  city  if  tea 
just  souls  were  found  therein.  He  mentioned  the  chokra,  which 
had  lately  desolated  their  town,  sayi^  ^  that  if  God  in  His  justice 
should  again  visit  His  people  for  theii  r'us,  the  new  convent  would 
be  like  a  tower  before  Him  to  remind  Him  of  His  Mercy,  which 
its  title  proclaims,  and  upon  which  He  would  look  with  more  com- 
placency than  on  the  rainbow  which  He  himself  had  formed. 

"  Dear  Rev.  Mother,  I  hope  you  will  recommend  the  whole  So- 
ciety, and  particularly  Dr.  Curtis,  to  the  prayers  of  the  community. 
He  deserves  to  be  enrolled  among  the  warmest  friends  and- most 
zealous  advocates  of  our  Order. 


Tlie  Very  Kev.  preacher  alluded  to  the  Cistercian  Abbey,  Melleray,  Ireland. 


««■« 


^lattnAnomS^ 


290 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


"  The  new  convent  is  getting  up  rapidly.    Dr.  0'Raffti*ty  is 
constantly  on  the  spot,  even  at  six  in  the  morning. 
"  Ever,  with  deep  aflfection, 

"  And  love  to  all  at  St.  Mary's, 

"  Your  devoted  child  in  Christ, 

"  Sister  M.  Anne  Dotli:." 


Mother  McAuley  read  this  letter  for  the  Sisters  at  St.  Mary's, 
and  then  sent  it,  thus  indorsed,  to  Carlow  : 

"  Read  this  to  yourself,  to  become  acquainted  with  the  pauses, 
etc.  Then  read  it  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald.  I  know  he  will  like  it.  It 
is  very  well  done  by  our  dear,  quiet,  little  Sister  Doyle,  who  would 
neither  write  nor  speak  until  she  was  obliged  to  do  so." 

The  Foundress  was  greatly  pleased  when  the  Sisters  were  careful 
to  write  and  compose  well.  She  waa  quite  severe  with  such  as 
were  inclined  to  bo  careless  in  this  respect,  and  would  never  permit 
a  letter  badly  written  or  composed  to  leave  the  convent.  She 
thought  it  would  be  ridiculous  for  them  to  profess  to  teach  writing 
and  composition,  if  they  could  not,  when  occasion  required,  send 
out  some  specin<cn8  fit  to  be  seen.  Besides,  she  added,  that  in 
this  respect,  as  in  every  other,  the  faults  of  one  would  be  imputed 
to  all ;  and  she  judged  that  no  one  was  fit  to  be  in  the  convent 
who  had  not  the  honor  of  the  Order  at  heart. 

Writing,  in  1840,  of  the  convent  and  schools  of  Tullamore,  she 
says  i  "  They  are  a  grand  tribute  to  Religion,  and  a  very  hand- 
some sight  from  the  canal-boat  ;  indeed  they  are  quite  an  orna- 
ment to  the  town.  I  am  sure  God  is  preparing  a  distinguished 
place  in  heaven  for  the  generous,  benevolent  priest  who  has  been 
80  instrumental  in  erecting  them.  If  I  said  more,  it  would  be  too 
much.    They  will  last  for  centuries." 

The  Superior  of  Tullamore  was  almost  too  prudent  and  cautious. 
Her  zeal  led  her  rather  to  perfect  the  Sisters  intrusted  to  her,  than 
to  aid  in  spreading  the  new  Institute.  In  this  respect  her  convent 
presented  a  striking  contrast  to  its  younger  sister,  Carlow,  which 
had  sent  out  several  foundations  before  Tullamore  would  venture 
one.  Even  Birr,  in  the  same  county,  had  to  be  supplied  from  St. 
Mary's.    Mother  McAuley  was  a  little  vexed  at  this.    Bishops 


i.3J^>iiSitfS9k9^0^ 


¥^7  J 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


291 


[lafffcrty  is 


DOTLI."    . 

St.  Mary's, 

the  pauses, 
like  it.  It 
,  who  would 

were  careful 
vith  such  as 
never  permit 
)nvent.    She 
teach  writing 
equired,  send 
Ided,  that  in 
be  imputed 
the  convent 

uUamore,  she 
a  very  hand- 
aitc  an  orna- 
distinguished 
10  has  been 
would  be  too 

and  cautious, 
to  her,  than 
her  convent 
larlow,  which 
ould  venture 
(lied  from  St. 
lis.    Bishops 


and  priests  were  consttintly  importuning  her,  and  she  thought  the 
younger  houses  ought  to  aid  her  in  acceding  to  their  wishes.  Hall 
serious,  half  jesting,  she  writes  : 

"  Birr  Convent  ought  to  be  founded  from  Tullamore.  It  is  a 
shame  to  be  such  creep-mouses  in  so  good  a  cause.  When  we 
pass  through  Tullamore,  on  our  way  to  Birr,  I  will  give  a  bitter 
scolding,  and — three  cheers/or  Carlow !" 

It  is  superfluous  to  say  that  the  "  bitter  scolding"  was  never  de- 
livered. 

Tullamore,  however,  erred  on  the  safer  side.  If  Mother  Mari- 
anne could  not  yet  spare  her  more  experienced  subjects,  she  knew 
that  it  would  not  advance  the  glory  of  God  to  form  foundations 
of  half-trained,  half-educated,  young  and  inexperienced  members- 
If  old  houses  cannot  supply  bishops  and  priests  desirous  to  intro- 
duce the  Order  into  new  places,  it  is  better  they  should  wait.  But 
they  may  invite  other  Religious  to  convents  designed  for  Sisters  of 
Mercy.  Well,  they  can  promote  God's  glory  as  well  as  we,  or 
better ;  and,  in  any  case,  the  perfection  and  reputation  of  onr 
Order  ought  to  be  dearer  to  us  than  its  extension.  J\1[other 
McAnley  would  never  undertake  a  foundation  unless  she  could 
supply  at  least  three  experienced  Bisters.  One  of  these  she  gener- 
ally withdrew  after  a  year  or  two,  if  the  House  could  spare  her. 
She  was  always  ready  to  lend  a  Sister  when  asked,  no  matter  how 
inconvenient  this  might  be  to  her ;  and  she  took  the  same  interest, 
if  not  more,  in  every  convent,  that  she  did  in  Saint  Mary's,  corres- 
ponding continually  with  her  absent  children,  and  frequently  under- 
going the  fatigue  of  visiting  them.  Noticing  thiti.  Bight  Rev. 
George  Browne,  Bishop  of  ^Iphin,  said : 

"  The  Order  of  Mercy  must  prosper.  Its  members  are  willing 
to  travel  hundreds  of  miles  to  aid,  counsel,  and  support  each  other, 
and  this  is  their  established  practice.  It  cannot  fail,  while  such 
affectionate  interest  is  manifested." 

When  the  Foundress  established  her  third  House,  she  wrote : 
"  We  are  very  near  a  stop — I  should  say  a  full-stop.  I  must  soon 
retire  from  business,  and  certainly  without  having  made  a  fortune. 
Hands  and  feet  are  plentiful  enough,  but  the  heads  are  nearly  all 
gone." 


i»  "iWKrri  liT  CTvaww 


292 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


Father  O'Hanlon  was  a  great  advocate  for  foandations,  and 
Buch  a  friend,  hat  it  was  not  easy  to  gainsay  any  thing  that  he  pro- 
posed ;  but  she  knew  how  to  deal  with  him.  "  I  do  not,"  she 
wi'itcs,  "  tell  Father  O'Hanlon  of  the  numerous  invitations  we  re- 
ceive, lest  he  should  be  pressing  what  cannot  be  done."  Yet  he 
wab  the  most  active  friend  the  Institute  had,  after  Dr.  Blake's  ele- 
vation. He  generally  accompanied  Mother  McAuley  on  new 
foundations ;  and  every  thing,  from  the  appointment  of  a  Superior 
to  the  material  best  suited  for  veils,  shared  bis  attention,  as  may 
be  gathered  from  her  letters.  EVery  year,  daring  her  life,  he  risited 
all  the  convents  of  the  Order. 

In  a  letter  dated  June,  1838,  she  writes,  in  reference  to  St. 
Josephs :  "Mr.  Molloy,  of  Tullamore,  a  wealthy  and  pious  Catho- 
lic, has  purchased  a  house  near  the  new  convent,  for  a  hospital 
The  Sisters  are  to  have  a  passage  to  it  through  the  garden.  Such 
is  the  account  Sister  Mp  ■■ianne  gives,  to  which  she  adds :  '  Not- 
withstanding all  our  stv^ming  prosperity,  I  am  gray  with  care.' 
She  is  what  I  call  doing  the  humble,  and,  as  ever,  greatly  afraid 
of  that  cunning  thief,  vain-glory.^' 

Cautious  as  Mother  Marianne  was,  she  once  committed  an  im- 
prudence which  caused  her  no  slight  mortification.  In  1888, 
Father  Mathew  commenced  the  temperance  movement  in  Cork. 
His  disciples,  first  counted  by  tens,  soon  swelled  to  thousands,  and 
his  geniality  and  kindness  were  such  that  he  soon  became  the  pop- 
ular idol.  Catholics  revered  him  as  a  saint,  Protestants  loved 
him  as  a  frier  i,  Orangemen  knelt  down  before  him,  and  Quakers 
called  hira  "  the  Apostle."  A  ceremony  was  about  to  take  place 
at  Tullamore,  and  the  Superioress,  desirous  of  giving  it  unusual 
iclat,  with  the  consent  of  Dr.  O'Raffcrty,  invited  the  "  Apostle" 
to  preach  at  it. 

The  principal  people  in  King's  County  being  distillers,  the  bishop 
was  afraid  to  excite  them  just  then  ;  so,  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
affair,  he  ordered  Mother  Marianne  to  write  immediately,  and 
decline  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Mathew's  proffered  services.  This  was  a 
most  difiBcult  act  of  obedience.  The  "  Apostle"  was  not  in  the 
least  offended,  but  the  poor  Superioress  was  terribly  mortified. 
She  wrote  an  account  of  it  to  Mother  McAuley,  who,  while  she 


ilL 


'.Hiiiliil 


■^SH3?S^3S 


wmmm. 


flftf«ii^5i-,'sK'fi'*a«si*fsy<w«*Kiif»tH!?iis^ 


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HI 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


981 


itions,  and 
hat  he  pro- 
3  not,"  she 
;lons  we  re- 
."    Yet  he 
Blake's  ele- 
ey  on  new 
a  Superior 
tion,  as  may 
fe,  he  rlsited 

■ence  to  St. 
pioas  Catho- 
)r  a  hospitaL 
irden.  Such 
adds:  '  Not- 
y  with  care.* 
jreatly  afraid 

mittcd  an  im- 
In  1888, 
lent  in  Cork, 
liousands,  and 
•arac  the  pop- 
Icstants  loved 
and  Quakers 
I  to  take  place 
ng  it  unusual 
[he  "  Apostle" 

|er8,  the  bishop 
I  he  heard  the 
ncdiatcly,  and 
This  was  a 

[as  not  in  the 

Jibly  mortified. 

Iwho,  while  she 


consoled  her  spiritual  daughter,  showed  her  that  such  a  proceeding, 
without  the  express  consent  of  her  Bishop,  was  highly  reprehend 
sible,  and  added  : 

"  It  will  be  a  lesson  to  all  our  convents  to  be  extremely  cautious 
in  seeking"  extraordinary  favors.  It  was  a  little  too  presuming, 
and  a  great  penance  lias  followed.  The  kind,  complying  answer 
by  return  of  post  might  have  excited  some  secret  motions  of  self- 
complacency,  but  God  in  His  mercy  has  sent  the  remedy." 

Several  bequests  and  endowments  gave  tht  r\eligious  of  TuUa- 
more  ample  means  to  perform  all  the  works  of  mercy  characteristic 
of  their  Institute.  Many  rich  ladies  entered,  and  the  Order  pos- 
sesses few  more  flourishing  establishments  than  St.  Joseph's. 

During  the  first  days  of  their  residence,  many  curious  offerings 
were  made  to  the  Sisters.  One  of  the  curates  presented  the  valu- 
able, but  not  very  portable  gift  of  a  cow  I  This  created  great 
amusement.  The  Sisters  having  no  place  to  put  it,  it  was  sent  on 
a  visit  to  the  country.  In  the  early  correspondence  with  St. 
Joseph's,  the  Foundress  affectionately  inquires  for  Madame  la 
Vache,  the  first  live-stock  in  the  Order. 

In  relating  the  particulars  of  the  different  foundations,  we  shall 
not  give  a  detailed  account  of  each,  as  found  in  the  Annals,  which 
are,  or  ought  to  be,  kept  in  every  convent.  However  interesting 
such  an  account  might  be  to  Sisters  of  Mercy,  it  would  prove  tire- 
some to  the  general  reader,  and  extend  our  work  beyond  the  pro- 
posed limits. 

*  Mother  Marriane  Doyle,  first  compnnion  of  the  FoundroM,  and  first  Superior- 
esi^  of  the  TuUamore  Convent,  died  while  this  worlc  was  in  pros,  at  the  Convent 
of  Mercy,  Londonderry,  in  the  fifly-seventh  year  of  her  age,  and  the  thirty-sixth 
of  her  Religious  profession. 


•ufaimm''. 


,xm'. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

>•■:>. 
Mother  McAuley  ond  her  absent  children.— Rhymes.— Her  mode  of  prepariE^ 
Si:.tor8  for  Superiority.— Uor  advice  to  a  young  Superior.- The  Charlevilie 
Foundation.— Very  Kev,  Mr.  Croke.— Sister  M.  Angela  Dunne.— Mother 
McAuley  refuses  to  give  a  colony  to  her  friend,  the  Bishop  of  Ossory.— Other 
applicants. 

IT  would  not  be  easy  to  exaggerate  the  pain  it  caused  the 
Foundress  to  par!,  with  her  spiritual  children  ;  and,  indeed, 
this  was  mutual.     "The  Sisters,"  wrote  she,  in  1840,  "say,  that 
partings  from  kindred  in  the  world  to  enter  Religion  are  joyful 
soirowa,  but  that  partings  in  Religion  are  bitter  sorrows.    But 
what  must  these  separations  be  to  me,  who  have  never  yet  seen 
an  unkind  Sister  ?    I  shall  soon  return  to  our  dear  old  habita- 
tion ;  but  no  more  shall  I  see  the  dearly  loved  forms  of  my  old 
children  there, — all  strange  faces  now.    We  shall,  however,  all 
meet  in  heaven.    Oh  1  what  a  joy  it  is  to  think  of  that !"    She 
was  anxious  that  the  Sisters  should  frequently  correspond  with 
each  other  ;  and,  notwithstanding  her  multiplied  duties,  she  always 
set  them  the  example,  writing  not  only  letters  of  advice,  but  even 
letters  to  amuse  her  absent  children.    When  they  wrote  to  her 
in  rhyme,  she  answered  in  the  same  manner,  so  that  it  became 
an  established  point  of  conventual  etiquette  that  a  poetic  epistle 
required  a  poetic  reply  ;  but  how  the  poor  Sisters  managed  who 
were  not  poetd,  and  did  not  even  possess  the  gift  of  rhyme,  is  a 
marvel,  unless,  indeed,  they  borrowed  the  friendly  muse  of  a  neigh- 
bor, rather  than  fail  in  politeness. 

Mother  McAuley  had  not  anticipated  establishing  new  convents, 
but  when  the  will  of  God  required  her  to  do  so,  no  miner  considera- 
tions deterred  her  ;  and,  to  her  own  great  inconveiience,  she  always 
gave  up  the  Sistere  best  suited  to  advance  Ihem.  She  would  not 
expose  her  children  indiscriminately  to  the  rough  work  of  new 


J  of  preparirg 
he  CharlevUle 
inne.— Mother 
)88ory.— Other 


caused  the 
and,  indeed, 
),  "  say,  that 
in  are  joy  fid 
rrows.    But 
?ver  yet  seen 
Ir  old  habita- 
ns  of  ray  old 
lowever,  all 
that  I"    She 
respond  with 
js,  she  always 
nee,  but  even 
wrote  to  her 
at  it  became 
joetic  epistle 
managed  who 
)f  rhyme,  is  a 
aa  of  a  neigh- 
new  convents, 
incr  considera- 
ice,  she  always 
ihe  would  not 
work  of  new 


iii 


W'xfSSXtmi^^imWssxm-S^ff^ 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


-"^'^^^^S^'? 


295 


foundations,  and  she  declined  the  most  ad^ant&geons  offt^m  when 
she  did  not  possess,  or  could  not  spare,  subjects  capable  of  sua* 
taining  the  credit  of  the  Order.  "  They  are  all  very  good,  in- 
deed," she  writes  of  the  novitiate  Sisters  of  1841,  "  but  they 
would  not  do  for  foundations."  In  selecting  a  Superior,  she  was 
very  slow,  taking  counsel  and  offering  special  prayers.  "  The  Sis- 
ters for  Birmingham,"  she  writes,  "  are  all  that  we  could  wish,  but 
'  I  am  greatly  periilexed  about  a  Superior.  Pray  that  God  may 
direct  us."  Before  making  an  appointment,  she  would  place  the 
Sister  designed  for  it  in  such  offices  as  were  best  calculated  to  give 
experience,  sending  her  to  preside  in  Kingstown  or  Booterstowu, 
that  her  executive  ability  might  be  tested  ;  for  the  Foundress 
well  kuew  that  many  a  one  in  the  world  and  in  the  cloister,  with 
virtue  enough  for  a  private  capacity,  is  found  wanting  when  ele- 
vated above  others.  Mildness  was  the  virtue  she  most  frequently 
inculcated  in  all  who  had  any  charge  of  souls,  in  any  way,  how- 
ever indirect.  In  the  schools,  the  Orphanage,  the  House  of 
Mercy,  she  taught  them  to  govern  by  gentleness  and  kindness,  and 
always  to  seek  out  and  work  upon  the  better  feelings  of  those  they 
governed.  The  following  advice  she  once  extemporized  a*^  *'  /  re- 
quest of  a  newiy-appointed  Superior  : 

"  Let  no  cresses  vex  or  tease, 
Meet  them  all  with  peace  and  ease ; 
Mark  the  faults  of  every  day, 
Mark  them  in  a  cheerful  way. 
If  yoa  terioutly  complain, 
Let  u»  f*tl  it  givet  you  pain. 
Mind  but  one  thing  at  a  time, 
You've  sixteen  hours  from  morning  prirao. 
Be  mild  and  meek  in  all  your  ways, 
And  now  and  then  betlow  torn*  praiie. 
Avoid  all  solemn  declaration, 
All  serious,  close  investigation. 
Say  al!  you  can  in  playful  mood, 
And  when  you're  serious,  it  it  good 
To  be  quite  brief :  and  be  your  prido 
To  keep  sweet  patience  by  your  side ; 
You'll  need  it  fur  a  constant  guide. 
Show  fond  affection  every  way, 
An^l  every  hour  devoutly  pray 
Tliiii  God  would  bless  the  cliarge  lie's  g.ven. 
And  make  of  you  their  guide  to  heaven." 


mim 


296 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


These  lines  evince  a  profound  knowledge  of  hiiman  nature.  TI19 
composer  was  evidently  well  acquainted  with  that  most  unsearch- 
able of  all  things,  the  human  heart.  Her  poetry  might  not  agree 
with  all  the  rules  of  English  prosody,  but  it  agrees  admirably  with 
all  the  rules  of  common  sense  and  piety  ;  and  we  never  read  a  poet 
but  herself  who  could  throw  so  much  of  these  valuable  ingredients 
into  so  few  words.  One  might  write  an  essay  on  every  couplet. 
Whoever  governs  as  she  governed,  must  become  an  absolute  ruler, 
though  the  subjects  of  such  a  one,  like  those  of  St.  Catherine  of 
Bologna,  could  hardly  realize  that  they  were  governed  at  all. 
What  a  beautiful  sentiment  is  couched  in  these  lines  : 

"  If  you  »mo«»iy  complain, 
Let  utfeelil  gives  you  pain." 

Who  could  be  angry  with  a  Superior  who  "  complained"  in  this 
fashion  ? 

"  Be  mild  nnd  meek  in  aii  your  ways, 
And  now  and  then  beitow  tome  praiu." 

Poor  human  nature  will  ever  'js  ready  to  take  correction  cheer- 
fully, to  make  renewed  efforts  to  advance,  if  only  "  now  and  then 
some  praise"  be  judiciously  administered. 

"  And  when  you're  berlooB,  it  is  good  ' 

To  U  quite  briff." 

The  writer  evidently  agreed  with  the  gentle  Saint  of  Geneva, 
who  said  a  drop  of  honey  would  attract  more  flies  than  a  barrel 
of  vinegar.  She  could  never  be  induced  to  give  vinegar  applica- 
tions a  trial — she  had  read  and  heard  quite  enough  about  them. 
Crossness  she  would  not  hear  of  at  all  ;  moroseness  she  deemed 
odious  in  a  Religious.  Even  "  seriousness,"  unless  "  quite  brief," 
she  regarded  as  inadmissible.  We  do  not  extol  the  literary  merit 
of  her  poems,  but  we  think  that  parents,  teachers,  and  all  who 
govern  others,  and  desire  to  become  to  theur  respective  charges 
"  guides  to  heaven,"  could  not  easily  find  in  so  few  lines  so  much 
useful  counsel. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  1839,  Mother  McAuley  addressed  the  fol- 
lowing lines  to  a  young  novice.    She  seems  to  have  a  presentiment 


M 


.tare.  TU9 
t  unaearch- 
t  not  agree 
drably  with 
read  a  poet 
ingredients 
ery  couplet, 
solute  ruler, 
:;!atherine  of 
rned  at  alL 


ined"  in  this 


iction  cheer- 
ow  and  then 


of  Geneva, 
han  a  barrel 
ogar  applica- 
about  them. 

she  deemed 
quite  brief," 
literary  merit 
nud  all  who 
ctive  charges 
ines  60  much 

•eased  the  fol- 
presentiraent 


LIFE  OP  CATHEEINB  MOAULBT, 


297 


that  her  sweet,  juTenilc  correspondent  was  destined  to  an  early 
crown,  and  the  "  year  thirty-nine"  was,  indeed,  the  last  for  this 
fervent  Sister  : 

"  I  hope  yon  don't  think  I've  been  very  remiss 
,  In  not  miswerinf;  all  your  nice  rhyme. 

I  should  have  replied  to  you  long  before  this 

Could  I  snatch  but  a  moment  of  time. 
That  monarch  who  bears  uh  away 

In  his  chariot  on  measureless  wing, 
•  ■  To  whom  we  can  never  say  '  Nay,' 

For  ho  rules  like  an  absolute  king. 
Stern  foe  to  our  beauty  and  youth. 

Which  fiido  as  he  passes  along. 
Ah  I  he  makes  as  acknowledge  the  truth 

That  life  is  no  more  for  the  young 
Than  strength  for  the  grave  of  the  strong. 

Oh  I  wliat  shall  we  do  to  defeat 
The  tyrant  that  smiteth  us  so  ? 

Let  us  try  by  what  arts  we  cau  oheat 
This  tireless  and  merciless  fo^. 

Let  na  now  with  the  ne^^  ytiar  begin 
To  vrest  from  the  despot  his  power, 

Not  only  avoiding  each  sin. 
But  piously  spending  each  hour. 
■'  '  Our  humors  and  pride  we'll  subdue,' 

And  be  mild  and  as  meek  as  we  can  ; 

Our  spirit  we'll  try  to  renew, 
And  entirely  cast  off '  the  old  man.' 

The  year  thirty-eight  is  now  past ; 
Its  cares  and  its  pleasures  are  gone. 

The  year  thirty-nine,  if  our  lost. 
Ought  to  find  us,  our  duties  all  done. 
,    ,  Let  us  beg  for  renewed  animation 

In  discharge  of  our  duties  each  day ; 

Let  us  smile  under  ov'ry  privation ' 
Religion  has  placed  in  oui  way. 

All  coldness  and  choler  we'll  smother. 
And  watchfully  shun  all  dejection  ; 

Wo'll  cordially  love  one  another, 
Sine*  that  it  th«  mark  of  tlection." 

If  these  lines  are  poor  in  poetic  merit,  they  are  rich  in  good 
counsel.  The  last  couplet  is  a  stroke  of  character.  Whatever  she 
began  with,  she  was  always  sore  to  end  with  fraternJ  charity. 

When  any  of  the  Sisters  wrote  verses  that  particularly  pleased 

13* 


-t^/uMsmn 


298 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINB  MCAULEY. 


her,  sbe  would  transcribe  them  for  the  absent  ones.  In  the  foUow« 
ing  lines,  which  she  sent  with  a  transcription  of  this  nature,  she 
expresses  a  very  poor  opinion  of  her  own  poetic  talent ;  and  in 
this  respect  she  innocently  puts  her  fair  correspondent,  whom  she 
playfully  callj  her  "  Sister  Poet,"  in  the  same  category  with  her- 
self : 

"  My  dear  Sister  Poet,  we  may  give  up  all  claim 
To  t)ie  buy  and  the  laurel  as  emblems  of  fame ; 

The  lines  I  tranttcribe  will  afford  you  delight,  '-' 

Tho'  they  cast  o'er  your  own  a  dull  shade  of  the  night. 
But  perchaiioo  you  may  catch  a  small  spark  of  the  Are 
Which  warmed  tho  young  heart  that  has  hero  touched  the  lyre." 

The  verses  inclosed  are  more  valuable  for  their  piety  than  thdr 

poetry: 

LINES  ON  A  PROFESSION. 

"  With  downcast  eyes  and  marble  cheeks 
The  virgin  band  kneel  one  by  one, 
To  ask  the  lowly  garb  which  speaks 
The  pomp  and  joys  of  earth  foregone. 

"  Let  nocontemptuoas  glance  be  given, 
But  reverent  list  the  holy  vow 
Which  plights  their  purity  to  heaven, 
And  breathes  their  charity  below. 

"  How  glorious  is  the  life  they  plan  I 
How  sacred  is  their  chaste  abode  I 
Ke'ir  guitUd,  but  to  lolace  man, 
Nitr  tnUred,  hut  to  loonhip  Ood  I 

"  Fearless  their  stop  when  sorrow  calls. 

Though  deatli  and  danger  mark  the  soen« — 
No  terror  from  without  appals  ; 
Watchful  against  each  foe  within. 

"  And  woman,  can  she  thus  retire, 

And  choose  this  stern,  determined  part, 
And  stifle  every  fond  desire, 
Bepress  each  impulse  of  tho  heart  I 

•        ■      '         ••  Gentle,  and  fond,  and  sweet,  and  yoang. 
The  willing  sacrifice  is  given  ; 
Triumphant  'mid  tho  maiden  throng. 
Behold  the  destined  Bride  of  Heaven  i" 


■iMPWiMM* 


LlfB  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


299 


the  follow' 
lature,  she 
it ;  and  io 
whom  she 
r  with  her- 


eJyre."         ,, 

J  than  their 


■■■•? 


Mother  McAalej  admired  some  of  these  lines  reiy  mnch.  She 
often  repeated  the  couplet : 

"  Ne'er  quitted,  but  to  solace  man, 
Ne'er  entered,  but  to  worship  God  1" 

And  were  it  possible,  she  wonid  hare  made  these  lines  the  motto 
of  a  device  for  every  convent  of  her  Order. 

Mother  McAal ,  freely  yielded  her  best  subjects  when  God's 
glory  seemed  to  require  them  elsewhere  ;  and  He  to  whom  she 
made  this  great  sacrifice  was  not  slow  in  rewarding  her  generosity. 
The  vacant  places  were  speedily  filled,  and  no  woric  of  mercy  was 
interrupted,  God  thus  showing  that  His  work  does  not  depend  on 
any  individual  in  particular.  The  Foundress  noticed  this  often  to 
the  Sisters,  saying  :  "  In  a  few  years  there  will  be  as  many  in  this 
room  as  there  are  now,  though  not  one  of  us  will  be  present.  The 
works  will  go  on  as  well  or  better  without  us.  They  will  be  per- 
formed, but  by  other  hands.  Let  us  never  think  any  one  individ- 
ual necessary  for  carrying  on  the  work  of  God.  No  one  is  so  ;  we 
can  all  be  done  without."  She  would  then  name  Sisters  who  had 
been  considered  indispensable  in  their  respective  ofiBces, — some  in 
the  music  choir,  some  in  the  school,  some  in  the  House  of  Mercy, 
and  show  how  their  deaths  had  caused  but  a  temporary  incon- 
venience, and  how,  after  a  few  weeks,  their  charges  went  on  as  well 
as  ever.  This  lesson  she  frequently  repeated  in  some  form  or  other, 
that  all  might  be  careful  to  apply  diligently  to  their  duties,  yet 
without  neglecting  their  own  perfection.  And,  indeed,  this  was  a 
theme  ujwn  which  she  might  enlarge,  for  we  daily  see  that  Popes, 
Bishops,  Kings,  Presidents,  the  highest  personages,  in  fact,  as  woll 
as  the  lowest,  may  be  removed  without  causing  a  vacuum.  When 
the  greatest  earthly  potentate  departs,  those  who  announce  that 
"  the  king  is  dead,"  add  :  "  Long  live  the  king  I"* 

Catherihe  McAuley  is  represented  in  her  portrait  with  the  Book 
of  the  Rules  in  her  hand,  and  an  homvglass  by  her  side ;  and 
more  fitting  accompaniments  could  not  be  selected  for  her.  The 
Rules  contained  the  highest  perfection  to  which  she  wished  her 
children  to  aspire  ;  it  was  there  she  desired  that  they  should  seek 


•  •' 


L«  Boi  est  tnnrt}  vive  It  Jioi/" 


MT^rTTftKff'f*'*^'''^''^™^-" 


800 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


God's  will.  Nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  observance  of  these 
would  satisfy  her,  and  this  she  preferred  to  the  working  of  miracles. 
The  hour-glass  is  emblematic  of  the  flight  of  time  and  the  approach 
of  eternity,  a  subject  she  wished  the  Sisters  to  speak  cf  to  the 
poor,  the  sick,  the  afflicted,  and  even  to  the  children. 

But  it  is  time  that  we  return  to  our  foundations. 

The  next  was  that  of  Charleville,  a  small  town  in  the  County 
Cork,  in  which  an  unsuccessful  attempt  had  been  previously  made 
to  establish  a  community  of  French  Sisters.  Miss  Clancy  having 
given  a  bouse  and  ground,  with  five  hundred  pounds,  the  beginning 
of  a  foundation  fund,  united  with  the  Bishop  of  Cloyne  and  Very 
Rev.  Mr.  Croke,  to  beg  that  Mother  McAuley  would  give  two  or 
three  Sisters  to  commence  the  good  work  among  the  poor.  Miss 
Clancy  made  some  other  engagements,  with  which  circumstances 
rendered  her  nnable  to  comply.  For  instance,  she  promised  to 
give  herself,  and  had  sent  her  harp  and  piano  as  suitable  preludes 
to  her  entrance  ;  but  her  subsequent  reception  of  the  seventh 
sacrament  released  her  from  promises,  which  we  must  suppose  were 
conditional. 

Mother  McAuley  set  out  for  Charleville,  in  October,  1836,  ac- 
companied by  four  Sisters,  one  of  whom  was  to  return  after  a 
while.  She  visited,  en  route,  her  dear  children  in  Tullamore,  to 
comfort  and  encourage  them,  and  give  the  Charleville  missioners 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  their  old  companions  once  more.  They 
travelled  by  the  canal  packet-boat,  a  slow  and  inconvenient  mode  ; 
but,  though  they  suffered  much  from  cold  and  fatigue,  they  seemed 
io  experience  no  pain  while  their  cheerful  mother  shared  their  pri- 
vations. On  the  vigil  of  All  Saints,  they  reached  their  destina- 
tion, and  found  the  house  which  was  prepared  for  them  not  quite 
what  they  had  been  led  to  expect.  It  was  so  damp  that  the  walls 
a)td  furniture  were  in  a  state  of  continual  perspiration,  and  the 
very  clothing  of  the  Sisters  became  saturated  in  a  few  moments. 
This  humidity  was  occasioned  by  a  rivulet  which  flowed  hard  by, 
and  which,  however  picturesque,  rendered  the  mansion  all  but  un- 
inhabitable. All  things  taken  into  account,  the  Foundress  deemed 
it  more  prudent  to  return  without  making  any  foundation  ;  bat  the 
pastor  would  not  hear  of  this,  and  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  the 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


801 


:e  of  these 
r.i  miracles, 
le  approach 
:  cf  to  the ' 


the  County 
iously  made 
ancy  having 
16  beginning 
le  and  Very 
give  two  or 
poor.  Miss 
ircumstances 

promised  to 
able  preludes 

the  seventh 
i  suppose  were 

ber,  1836,  ao 
etum  after  a 
Tullamore,  to 
ille  missioners 

more.  They 
renient  mode ; 
8,  they  seemed 
ared  their  pri- 

their  destina- 
them  not  quite 
that  the  walla 
ation,  and  the 

few  moment"*, 
owed  hard  by, 
ion  all  but  un- 
mdress  deemed 
ation ;  but  the 
cause  of  the 


poor  so  earnestly  that  she  was  obliged  to  yield.  The  words  of 
Father  Croke  Lad  always  great  weight  with  her.  Although  she 
once  described  him  as  "  rather  a  cold  character,"  she  knew  that  he 
always  did  as  much  as  he  promised,  if  not  more. 

While  on  the  visitation  of  the  sick,  the  Foundress  one  day  heard 
a  poor  woman  express,  in  her  homely  style,  her  appreciation  of  the 
Sisters,  by  exclaiming,  "  O,  it  was  the  Almighty  God,  glory  to 
Him,  that  drove  you  in  among  us  !"  These  simple  words  touched 
ileverend  Mother  so  deeply,  that  she  resolved  that,  since  "God 
had  driven  them  in"  among  the  poor  of  Charleville,  they  would 
even  abide  there.  But,  notwithstanding  the  zeal  and  eflForts  of  all 
concerned,  this  establishment  progressed  very  slowly  for  some  time, 
and  was  severely  tried  with  the  cross,  in  more  forms  than  one. 

On  the  29th  November,  she  left  for  Dublin.  Obliged  *,o  travel 
by  the  mail-coach,  which  started  at  three  in  the  morning,  she  de- 
clined taking  any  breakfast,  hoping  to  reach  Limerick  in  tine  f^r 
Mass.  Arrived  in  sight  of  the  Shannon,  she,  after  much  trouble, 
succeeded  in  finding  a  chapel,  in  which  she  heard  Mass  and  re- 
ceived Holy  Communion  ;  but  she  and  her  companion  had  great 
difficulty  in  finding  theur  way  back  to  their  inn,  as  the  snow  was 
falling  profusely,  and  her  spirit  of  poverty  would  not  allow  her  to 
hire  a  vehicle.  After  losing  their  way  several  times,  they  at  length 
reached  the  hotel,  after  one  o'clock.  Having  breakfasted,  they 
set  Oct  for  Dublin,  travelled  all  night,  and  reached  St.  Mary's  just 
in  time  to  assist  at  Mass,  which  was  celebrated  by  the  Lord  Bishop 
of  Cork,  who  had  come  to  make  arrangements  for  estabUshing  a 
Convent  of  Mercy  in  his  episcopal  city. 

In  a  short  time,  the  difficulties  in  Charleville  were  such  that  the 
Foundress  again  entertained  the  project  of  withdrawlug  the  Sisters ; 
but  Father  Croke  was  more  tenacious  than  ever.  '*  They  shall  not 
be  at  any. loss  by  Miss  Clancy's  marriage,"  he  wrote  ;  "if  I  were 
obliged  to  go  to  England  to  beg  funds  for  the  erection  of  a  new 
convent,  it  shall  be  bnilt."  When  the  will  to  succeed  was  so 
strong,  failure  was  all  but  impossible ;  and,  on  the  Feast  of  Our 
Lady  of  Mercy,  1838,  Mother  McAuley  had  the  happiness  of 
assistmg  at  the  ceremony  of  laying  the  first  stone  of  a  new  con- 
vent in  Charleville,  the  site  and  garden  of  which  were  presented  to 


'303 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCADLEY. 


Ill: 


i|i^ 


the  Sisters  by  his  Lordship  the  Earl  of  Ck>rk.  Tliis  convent  was 
dedicated  to  St.  Joseph. 

Sister  M.  Angela  Dunn,  who  was  appointed  Superior  here,  was 
so  very  diffident,  and  so  fearful  of  undertaking  the  responsibility  of 
governing  others,  that  only  obedience  could  overconno  her  reluc- 
tance to  accept  the  charge.  She  departed  to  our  Lord,  in  No- 
vember, 1863,  with  the  reputation  of  a  saint.  In  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  Foundress,  we  find  her  charged  with  two  faults  :  one 
wa8  indiscreet  fasting,  which  Mother  McAuley  would  never  allow 
to  the  extent  of  incapacitating  any  one,  even  for  a  day  or  an  hour, 
from  the  active  duties  upon  which  she  laid  so  much  stress.  The 
other  was,  that  she  once  admitted  as  postulant,  one  whom,  for 
peculiar  reasons,  the  Foundress  did  not  wish  to  be  received  in 
Gharleville.    This  the  latter  notices  in  a  letter,  thus  : 

"  I  have  just  heard  that  Miss  Fanny  D has  entered  Gharle- 
ville with  Sister  M.  Angela.  Father  Croke  informed  me.  You 
may  be  sure  I  was  not  consnlted.  I  should  not  have  permitted  it. 
I  feel  quite  ancasy  about  this  ;  but  I  trust  in  God  we  are  not 
going  to  have  any  disedification  in  our  Order." 

Happily,  no  unpleasantness  resulted  from  this,  as  the  Foundress 
seemed  to  have  anticipated.  The  young  lady  persevered  at  St. 
Joseph's,  with  great  edification  to  all. 

Except  in  this  instance.  Sister  M.  Angela  was  particularly  re- 
markable for  the  perfection  with  which  she  practised  obedience. 
Gandor  compels  us  to  mention  the  faults  as  well  as  the  virtues  of 
those  to  whom  we  allude.  Even  the  saints  had  their  failings,  how- 
ever impeccable  they  may  be  represented.  Jesus,  by  nature,  and 
Mary,  by  grace,  were  sinless  :  all  else  must  continually  say, 
"  Forgive  us  our  trespasses."  If  the  biographers  of  saintly  per- 
sons enlarged  on  faults  as  on  virtues,  the  lecture  of  their  beautiful 
works  would  produce  more  fruit  than  it  does.  What  is  the  use  of 
holding  up  to  people  in  general,  perfection  that  seems  inimitable  ? 
The  author  of  the  Lives  of  the  English  Saints  has  set  an  admurable 
example  in  this  respect.  In  them,  poor  sinful  nature  finds  matter 
for  hope.  If  saints  fell  again  and  again,  and  still  became  saints, 
surely  we  may  all  take  courage.  But  the  reader  may  say,  "K 
this  be  yonr  opinion,  why  do  you  not  tell  uh  something  of  the 


"mm 


^ry^j^^^ji^:^^^- 


T^:''; ■  ■  >f."''-;r  y  '^^E^:>->)V^''yy^si 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


jonvent  was 

)r  here,  was 
lonsibility  of 

0  her  relac- 
iord,  in  No- 

correspond- 

1  faults :  one 
never  allow 

r  or  an  hoar, 
stress.  The 
3  whom,  for 
>  received  in 

tered  Charle- 

id  me.    You 

permitted  it. 

a  we  are  not 

he  Foundress 
!vered  at  St. 

articularly  re- 
ed obedience, 
the  virtues  of 
failings,  how- 
ly  nature,  and 
itinually  say, 
)f  saintly  per- 
their  beantiful 
t  is  the  use  of 
as  inimitable  ? 
;  an  admirable 
e  finds  matter 
)ecame  saints, 
may  say,  "If 


ething  of  the 


faults  of  Catherine  McAuley  ?"  If  three  of  her  confessors — Right 
Rev.  Bishop  Blake,  Very  Rev.  Dean  Qaffncy,  and  Very  Rev. 
Father  O'Hanlon — were  unable  to  observe  a  fault  in  h-T,  still  less 
should  we.  Faults  she  had,  no  doubt,  for  she  was  hnman  ;  but, 
like  spots  upon  the  sun,  they  were  eclipsed,  or  rather  outshone, 
bj  th«)  brightness  of  her  virtues.  She  herself  always  saw  people 
through  sucu  a  beautiful  medium  that  they  appeared  almost  faultless 
to  her,  for  she  saw  them  in  God.  Perhaps  it  is  ia  recompense  of 
her  heroic  charity,  that  He  did  not  permit  one  of  her  biographers 
to  be  able  to  charge  her  with  a  positive  fault.  And,  if  this  be  our 
ungracious  task,  we  must  still  admit,  that  her  faults  leaned  to,  or 
were  but  excesses  of,  virtue. 

The  business  of  the  Cork  foundation  progressed  slowly.  The 
Bishop  had  so  many  conditions  to  make,  and  so  many  provisos 
to  put  in,  that,  while  the  negotiations  were  pending,  two  other 
episcopal  applicants  appeared,  and  his  Lordship  was  crowded  ont 
for  the  present. 

Right  Rev.  William  Kinsella,  Lord  Bishop  of  Ossory,  a  special 
friend  of  the  Institute,  was  anxious  to  establish  a  Servants' 
Asylum  in  Kilkenny.  So  great  was  his  zeal  for  protecting  yonup 
persons  whose  poverty  and  inexperience  made  it  difficult  for  them 
to  resist  temptation,  that  he  had  frequently  sent  such  persons  to 
St.  Mary's,  paying  all  their  expenses,  and  entreating  the  Foundress 
to  make  them  good  Christians  and  good  servants  during  their  stay 
in  the  Institution.  He  asked  her  for  a  few  Sisters  capable  of  con- 
ducting an  Asylum  on  the  Baggot-street  plan,  and  it  was  not  easy 
to  refuse  any  request  of  such  a  friend  and  benefactor.  But  the 
house  offered  was  in  a  very  undesirable  locality,  being  built  over 
an  arched  gateway,  through  which  the  public  had  right  of  passage 
day  and  night.  Though  excellent  in  other  respects,  this  made  it 
unsuitable  for  conventual  purposes.  The  Bishop  reasoi-jd  with 
the  Foundress,  and  promised  to  build  very  soon  ;  but  she  was  in- 
flexible, saying,  "  When  you  do  build,  my  lord,  you  shall  have 
Sisters  iAmediately." 

This  foundation  was  indefinitely  postponed.  She  was  willing  to 
begin  in  small,  poor  houses ;  but  she  would  never  permit  the 
Sisters  to  reside  in  localities  where  the  surroundings  were  not  re- 


.^.viiif  it  i[iS.a".-init)iiitiT-  V 


804 


LIFE  OP  CATHKKINE  MCAULET. 


Bpectable.  Besides,  she  desired  that  a  House  of  Mercy  shoold,  if 
possible,  be  attached  to  every  convent  ;  and  as  she  knew  that  ser- 
vants  and  poor  girls  would  be  constantly  coming  for  relief  or  in- 
struction, she  would  not  have  them  meet  with  ^emptation  when 
cominf  to  the  Sisters  for  protection. 

Towards  the  end  of  1836,  Dr.  Nolan,  Lord  Bishop  of  .Kildare 
and  Leighlin,  signified  his  earnest  desire  to  establish  a  Convent  of 
Mercy  in  Carlow  ;  but,  as  this  chapter  has  already  exceeded  ita 
proper  limits,  we  will  reserve  the  particulars  of  the  Carlow  foai*. 
dation  for  our  next. 


•lUl 


ircy  stoulJ,  if 
:new  that  ser- 
•  relief  or  in- 
iptation  wheu 

ip  of  Kildare 

a  Convent  of 

exceeded  ita 

1  Carlow  foun- 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

Very  Rev.  Andrew  Fitzgerald,  D.  D.— The  McAuley  boys.— The  Doctor  »nd 
tlie  Monk. — Yoniig  men's  sermons. — Kif^ht  Eev.  Dr.  Nolan. — Dr.  Doyle's 
error. — Mother  MoAnley's  temptation,  and  its  remedy. — She  loses  two  of  her 
Sisters.— Sets  out  for  Carlow. — Tlie  Sisters'  entrde. — Schools  for  the  middle 
classea.— The  silver  breakfast  service.- Death  of  Bishop  Nolan. — Letter  of 
tho  Foundress. — Letter  from  Dr.  Fitzgerald. 

rPHE  clergy  of  Carlow,  with  most  of  whom  Mother  McAuley 
X  was  acquainted,  and  to  some  of  whom  she  owed  a  debt  of  gra- 
titude for  their  kindness  to  her  nephews,  had  frequently  asked  for 
a  small  colony  of  her  spiritual  cliildrcn.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  had  been 
in  Dublin  several  times  to  confer  with  her  on  this  business,  but  she 
was  slow  in  making  definite  arrangements,  till  Dr.  Nolan,  tho 
saintly  Bishop,  urged  her  to  expedite  them. 

As  Dr.  Fitzgerald  is  frequently  mentioned  in  her  letters,  and  au 
she  held  him  in  particular  esteem,  it  will  not  bo  irrelevant  here  to 
give  a  brief  notice  of  his  connection  with  her  family  and  Institute. 
We  have  already  stated  that,  early  in  1829,  James,  Robert,  and 
William  McAuley,  were  placed  at  St.  Patrick's  College,  Carlow,  of 
which  tho  Doctor  was  President.  He  was  a  father,  indeed,  to 
these  beautiful  orphans.  He  loved  them  and  caressed  them  as  his 
most  dear  children.  They  remained  several  years  with  him,  their 
aunt  fondly  hoping  that  one  of  them,  at  least,  might  evjnce  a  prefer- 
ence for  tho  ecclesiastical  state  :  but  in  this  she  was  disappointed. 
They  were  diligent  students,  strict  observers  of  college  discipline, 
and  firm  Catholics  ;  but  Qod  did  not  call  them  to  that  closer  union 
with  Himself  which  tho  ecclesiastical  or  religious  state  supposes. 
The  Doctor  continued  to  show  the  greatest  affection  for  them — tho 
wliite-haired  octogenarian  became  a  boy  again  with  these  talented, 


I  Miiiiiriniiiiii(ii 


! 


806 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


interesting  youths,  who  always  idolized  "  Father  Andrew,"  as  they 
called  him.  Of  course,  Mother  McAuley  could  never  forget  his 
kindness  to  these  children  so  dear  to  her ;  and  she  never  lost  an 
opportunity  of  testifying  her  gratitude.  lu  a  letter  she  wrote  on 
her  dying  bed,  this  passage  occurs  : 

"  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear  that  poor  Dr.  Fitzgerald  was  suffer- 
ing so  much.  Tell  him  I  pray  with  all  the  earnestness  I  can,  for 
his  comfort." 

She  had  many  other  motives  of  gratitude  to  him,  as  we  shall  see  ; 
but  to  be  perfectly  candid,  the  good  old  man,  in  his  Ip^t  years,  was 
not  b}  any  means  a  general  favorite.  Indeed,  he  was  sometimes 
"  aggravating  enough  to  vex  a  saint."  A  wearying  and  painful 
disease,  to  which  he  had  become  subject,  excused  his  little  peculi- 
arities in  the  eyes  of  his  other  friends  ;  but  Mother  McAuley 
seemed  not  to  notice  them  as  such  at  all.  To  a  correspondent,  who 
had  probably  hinted  that  he  was  in  dotage,  she  says  : 

"  Believe  me,  there  is  as  yet  no  diminution  or  ueterioration  in 
the  Doctor's  rational  powers  ;  they  are  still  as  acute  as  ever,  though 
they  may  not  always  be  equally  exercised." 

The  old  President's  kindness  to  the  Carlow  Convent  was  such 
OS  to  be  sometimes  almost  oppressive.  Calling  one  day,  and  find- 
ing a  monk  in  the  parlor,  he  instantly  asked  his  business.  Having 
respectfully  saluted  "  Father  Andrew,"  he  replied  that  he  desired 
to  learn  the  arrangements  requisite  for  the  admission  of  Sisters. 
But  the  President,  boing  '*  hard  of  hearing,"  and  having  acquired, 
in  old  age,  a  marvellous  facility  for  taking  up  the  wrong  end  of  a 
story,  at  once  imagined  that  the  good  brother  said  he  had  a  sister 
in  the  convent,  and  that  he  had  come  to  take  her  away  ;  and  he 
commenced  a  philippic  that  almost  annihilated  the  poor  man.  The 
Superioress  made  several  vain  attempts  to  undeceive  him  :  he  ab- 
ruptly bade  her  mind  her  own  business,  and  leave  to  him  this 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.  The  innocent  monk,  who  was  very  small 
and  slight,  looked  anxiously  around  for  some  feasible  mode  of 
egress,  fearing  lest  the  stalwart  Doctor  might,  in  his  zeal  for  Jus- 
tice, use  stronger  arguments  than  his  very  energetic  language.  As 
ho  escdped  precipitately,  the  President  warned  him,  under  divers 
pains  nud  penalties,  never  to  appear  on  the  premises  again,  threat- 


'a-jionri.'  - 


1 


.4,-... 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


•m 


>w,"  as  they 
'r  forget  bia 
ever  lost  an 
she  wrote  on 

d  was  suffer^ 
S3  I  can,  for 

we  shall  see ; 
?st  years,  was 
ras  sometimes 
J  and  painful 
8  little  pccuU- 
hcr  McAuley 
spondent,  who 

eterioration  in 
18  ever,  though 

vent  waa  such 
day,  and  find- 
ness.    Having 
hat  he  desired 
ion  of  Sisters, 
iving  acquired, 
rrong  end  of  a 
le  had  a  sister 
|away ;  and  he 
loor  man.    The 
him :  he  ab- 
[ve  to  him  this 
was  very  small 
liblo  mode  of 
lis  zeal  for  jua- 
language.   As 
|m,  under  divers 
Is  again,  threat- 


ening him  with  major  excommunication  in  case  he  repeated  his  ef- 
forts to  undermine  any  one's  vocation.  The  warning  was  quite 
unnecessary,  during  the  Doctor's  life  at  least,  and  the  threat  quite 
uncalled  for,  "  which  he  easily  might  have  learned,"  said  the  Monk, 
"  if  he  only  would  hear  reason." 

Father  Andrew,  though  an  excellent  preacher,  was  somewhat 
chary  of  his  sermons.  Reception  and  Profession  discourses  he 
considered  his  forte ;  and  it  was  treason  not  to  invite  him  to 
preach  these.  Sometimes,  the  Bishop  would  preach  himself,  or 
appoint  another  to  preach,  on  which  occasions,  the  Doctor  would 
eloquently  testify  his  chagrin,  by  withdrawing  before  his  rival  had 
quite  finished.  After  a  disappointment  of  this  kind,  it  usually  took 
a  week  to  restore  his  equanimity.  Not  one  of  the  audience  ever 
ventured  to  praise  the  sermon  in  his  presence.  The  most  that 
could  bn  risked,  was  :  "  Well,  Father  Andrew,  it  was  not  so  bad." 
He  would  then  describe  what  such  u  style  of  sermon  ought  to  be, 

and  afterwards,  apologetically,  add  :  "  But  Father is  a  young 

man,  a  young  man,  my  dear,"  Every  one,  who  happened  to  be 
the  Doctor's  junior  by  a  few  years,  was  a  "  young  mon  ;"  and  he 
laid  it  down  as  a  rule,  which  had  not  an  exception,  that  no  young 
man  could  preach  a  good  sermon. 

With  these  little  peculiarities,  more  amusing  than  annoying,  he 
was  most  kind-hearted,  simple  as  a  child,  ti'uly  devoted  to  Qod, 
and  he  delighted  to  inconvenience  himself  to  serve  a  friend,  or  even 
an  enemy.  He  was,  withal,  very  discreet  and  prudent,  could  give 
a  decision  on  a  knotty  question  with  legal  acumen,  and  possessed 
such  varied  acquirements,  that  he  could  take  any  chair  in  the  col- 
lege. Nothing  could  exceed  his  kindness  to  the  Foundress  and 
her  Institute.     But  wc  will  now  speak  of  his  Bishop. 

Right  Rev.  Dr.  Nolan  having  been  raised  to  the  episcopacy,  in 
1834,  had  since,  according  to  the  advice  given  him  by  his  Holiness 
Gregory  XVI.,  "governed  mildly  and  peaceobly  the  flock  in- 
trusted to  him  by  Apostolic  authority."  In  1 836,  a  man,  who  had 
kept  a  delft-shop  in  Carlow,  bequeathed  to  him  three  thousand 
pounds  for  the  destitute  of  that  town.  The  interest  of  this  he 
settled  in  perpetuity  on  the  Sisters,  for  the  objects  of  their  Insti- 
tute, but  none  of  it  was  to  be  applied  to  their  own  use  for  building 


fve"MV4"-»'*'  **• 


[■"■^^"'•■•W'T?* 


11 


.AuMMm. 


308 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBINB  MCAULEY. 


or  otherwise.  "  My  illustrious  predecessor,"*  said  he  to  the  Foun- 
dress, "  once  committed  an  error  in  a  similar  affair.  Receiving  ft 
large  legacy  for  a  certain  purj)ose,  he  allowed  himself  to  be  per- 
suaded to  use  part  of  it  for  another  object,  equally  ^ood,  perhaps 
better,  but  still  not  specified  by  the  testator,  whose  friends  were 
not  at  all  satisfied  at  this  course.  I  mention  this,  because  you  arc 
aware  that  I  have  been  pressed  to  build  a  convent  with  some  of 
this  money  ;  and  I  wish  yon  to  understand  that  I  will  not  do  so. 
Whatever  property  is  confided  to  me,  will  be  used  exactly  in  the 
manner  specified  by  the  legators." 

Mother  McAuley  was  delighted  to  hear  these  sentiments,  which 
entirely  accorded  with  her  own.  She  had,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
nicest  sense  of  justice,  and  she  wished  to  find  the  same  in  others. 

"  Give  me,"  continued  the  prelate,  "  a  small  colony  of  your  fer- 
vent children,  and  I  will  take  the  whole  responsibility  upon  myself. 
The  house  we  have  prepared  is  not  exactly  what  we  I'/oald  wish, 
but  we  will  soon  build.  The  interest  of  Michael  Novvlan's  money 
will  enable  them  to  commence  at  once  their  labors  among  the  poor 
and  sick.  I  am  not  rich,  but  I  promise  that  my  spiritual  children 
shall  never  want  for  necessaries.  As  a  small  donation  and  a  proof 
of  ray  affection,  I  will  give  them  the  convent  and  grounds,  and, 
while  I  live,  one  hundred  poundsf  a  year,  which,  if  they  do  not 
need  for  ther<!elve8,  they  can  bestow  on  the  poor.  This  little  gift 
is  to  be  a  secret,  though,  because  if  known  it  might  prevent  the 
benefactions  of  others." 

Here  was  a  prosperous  opening.  The  Carlow  foundation  busi- 
ness was  speedily  settled. 

When  the  Foundress  sent  out  her  first  branch,  she  began  to 
realize  some  of  the  troubles  of  spreading  an  Order,  not  the  least 

*  Kiglit  Rov,  James  Doylo,  woll  known  for  hit  roligiouB  and  political  writings, 
lottors,  &o.,  generally  published  with  tho  eignaturo  of  J.  K.  L.,  Jamos,  Kil- 
duro  and  Loighlin. 

t  Mother  McAuley,  who  could  never  boar  to  see  an  avaricious  spirit  in  Re- 
ligious, deHired  the  Sisters  not  to  nsk  this  annuity  unless  tliey  really  wanted  it. 
They  received  fifty  pounds,  tho  first  instalment  of  it,  on  their  arrival,  and  she 
would  not  allow  Dr.  Ilealy  to  be  informed  of  Dr.  Nolan's  promise,  on  tho  death 
of  tho  latter,  six  niontlis  later.  Tho  Community  in  Carlow  did  not,  however- 
requlro  it. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


809 


to  the  Foau- 
Receiving  ft 
f  to  be  per- 
;ood,  perhaps 
friends  were 
lause  you  arc 
vith  some  of 
11  not  do  so. 
jxactly  in  the 

;imcnts,  which 
lave  seen,  the 
le  in  others. 
ly  of  your  fer- 
y  upon  myself. 
VQ  Toald  wish, 
owlan's  money 
mong  the  poor 
ritual  children 
on  and  a  proof 

grounds,  and, 
if  they  do  not 

'his  little  gift 
ht  prevent  the 

oundation  busi- 

she  began  to 
not  the  least 


1  political  writings, 
Z.,  Jaraos,  KU- 

ous  gpirit  In  R«- 

ijr  really  wanted  it. 

^r  arrival,  and  alie 

imiae,  on  tlio  death 

did  not,  however- 


of  which  was  the  thought  that  she  must,  in  time,  pert  with  all  her 
senior  subjects.  We  are  bound  to  mention  her  faults,  and  hero 
we  meet  with  one  which  shows  that  her  love  of  the  Sisters  was 
sometimes  too  great,  too  natural, — that  it  led  her  to  make  reserves 
with  God.  In  Religion,  her  temptation  was  to  form  those*  par- 
ticular attachments  against  which  she  so  strongly  cautions  the 
Sisters  in  her  Rule.  She  knew  this  well ;  she  struggled  against  it, 
and  siie  achieved  the  victory,  not  by  stifling  the  love  she  bore  to 
some,  but  by  purifying  it  and  extending  it  to  all.  She  was  so  suc- 
cessful in  this,  that  we  never  met  any  one  acquainted  with  her  who 
did  not  conceive  herself  to  be  an  object  of  special  affection  to  her. 

"  Well,"  thought  she,  "  I  shal-  have  to  part  with  most  of  my 
present  flock,  but  there  are  two  whom  I  will  keep,  come  what 
may." 

Here  was  a  reserve  with  God,  but  "  God  sent  the  remedy.'* 
One  of  the  two,  Sister  Veronica,  a  Lay  Sister,  had  been  her  maid 
at  Coolock,  and  her  confidential  messenger  to  the  Archbishop  in  all 
her  early  troubles;  she  knew  every  thing  relating  to  the  domestic 
condition  of  St.  Mary's,  and  was  invaluable  in  vbo  extern  depart- 
ment of  the  House  of  Mercy,  a  charge  very  difficult  to  administer. 
Better  than  all,  she  was  revered  as  a  saint.  She  was  one  of  the 
orphans  whom  Mother  McAuIey  had  reared  from  infancy. 

No  sooner  had  this  resolution  been  taken,  than  Sister  Veronica 
was  missed  from  her  accustomed  post.  She  had  grown  suddenly 
ill.  Her  Mother  sought  her,  and  as  she  laid  a  soft  hand  on  the 
hot  brow,  her  mild  eyes  became  moist,  and  she  knelt  down  and  of. 
fered  this  precious  child  in  sacrifice  to  God.  It  was  only  a  head- 
ache to-day  ;  to-morrow,  the  throbbing  temples,  the  burning  skin, 
the  galloping  pulse,  and  other  unmistakable  symptoms,  indicated 
typhns  fever  in  its  worst  form.  In  some  constitutions  this  terrible 
disease  always  terminates  fatally.  Having  received  the  last  sacra- 
ments, the  patient  hourly  grew  worse,  and  died  on  the  fourth  day, 
in  excruciating  agony. 

Mother  McAuley  had,  perhaps,  loved  the  departed  one  a  little 
too  well,  and  her  good  "  God  had  sent  the  remedy."  While  she 
watched  the  hectic  of  fever  change  into  the  pallid  hues  of  death, 
she  made  a  resolution  which  she  never  broke.     Henceforth,  those 


310 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


!'.;: 


Ii  ■  I 


who  seemed  best  suited  were  sent  on  missions,  no  matter  how  indis- 
pensable they  seemed  to  St.  Mary's,  or  how  dear  they  were  to  her. 
Sister  Veronica  had  passed  away,  and  the  other  of  "  the  two"  was 
immediately  appointed  for  the  Carlow  House. 

We  may  remark,  in  passing,  that  no  Sister  ever  opposed  the 
selection  Mother  McAuley  made  of  her  for  any  new  mission, 
though  not  one  ever  parted  from  her  with  tearless  eyes.  This  was 
partly  owing  to  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  which  she  developed  in  them, 
and  to  the  feeling  which  animated  all,  that  she  was  entirely  di- 
vested of  human  respect,  and  guided  solely  by  the  will  of  God  in 
every  appointment  she  made.  Besides,  the  very  manner  in  which 
she  made  the  proposal  caused  the  Sisters  to  throw  themselves  un- 
reservedly into  her  arms,  to  be  disposed  of  as  she  thought  best. 
The  spirit  which  animated  them  will  appear  from  the  answer  a 
sweet,  simple  Sister,  not  yet  out  of  her  teens,  made  when  asked 
how  she  would  feel  if  sent  on  a  foundation  : 

"  I  should  feel  lonely,  indeed,  after  you  all,"  said  she,  "  but  then 
I  would  not  grieve,  because  I  cannot  be  sent  where  God  is  not. 
If  I  should,  then  indeexl  would  I  have  reason  to  complain." 

Sister  Veronica  was  quickly  followed  by  Sister  Mary  Rose  Lub6, 
who  had  for  some  time  been  fading  away  gently  as  a  departing 
sunbeam.  Weakness,  exhaustion,  and  hectic  fever  indicated  con- 
sumption in  this  case,  but  none  of  its  more  painful  symptoms  were 
present.  This  sweet  Sister,  who  had  learned  from  her  saintly 
guide  that  the  spirit  of  labor  is  an  essential  ingredient  of  holy  pov- 
erty, begged  to  be  permitted  to  sew  for  the  poor,  but  her  debility 
was  so  great  that  the  Foundress  refused.  The  invalid  insisting 
that  she  was  strong  enough  to  help  the  poor  in  some  manner, 
Mother  McAuley,  to  amuse  her,  gave  her  some  materials  for 
"  Patrick's  crosses,"  and  cheered  her  with  the  hope  of  making  a 
few  old  women  happy  by  furnishing  their  baskets  for  the  approach- 
ing national  festival.  Every  piece  of  bright-colored  silk  or  ribbon 
she  could  get  was  brought  directly  to  her  industrious  patient,  whom 
she  amused  by  giving  a  pleasant  account  of  something  that  had 
occurred  during  the  day.  A  goodly  pile  of  "  crosses"  garnished 
t'ae  infirmary  table  very  soon,  and  though  Sister  M.  Rose  had  re- 
ceived the  last  sacraments,  she  worked  away  with  increasing  eu- 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


ftll 


r  how  indis- 
were  to  her. 
tie  two"  was 

opposed  the 
lew  mission, 
3.    This  was 
»ped  in  them, 
s  entirely  di- 
ll of  God  in 
mer  in  which 
liemselves  na- 
thonght  best, 
the  answer  a 
e  when  asked 

she,  "  but  then 
e  God  is  not. 
plam." 

y  Rose  Lnb6, 
s  a  departing 
indicated  con- 
lymptoms  were 
m  her  saintly 
t  of  holy  pov- 
[ut  her  debility 
valid  insisting 
some  manner, 
materials  for 
,e  of  making  a 
the  approach- 
silk  or  ribbon 
patient,  whom 
thing  that  had 
isses"  garnished 
.  Rose  had  re- 
increasing  en- 


ergy, rejoicing  that  from  her  bed  of  death  she  coald  assist  the 
poor.  At  last,  on  the  11th  of  March,  she  sank  back  gently  on  her 
pillow,  and  putting  the  needle  carefully  in  the  nnfinished  "  Patrick's 
cross,"  rested  her  white,  transparent  fingei-s,  and  softly  closed  her 
too-brilliant  eyes.  The  Sisters  gathered  arornd  her,  and  the  last 
prayers  were  hardly  ended  when  their  gentle  young  companion, 
after  smiling  her  adieax  to  those  she  lored  so  well,  fell  asleep  on 
her  fond  Mother's  bosom.  The  weeping  infirmarian  then  took  off 
the  thimble  of  her  departed  patient,  and  removed  the  nnfinished 
"cross"  from  th?  bed  of  death. 

There  was  nothing  abont  Mother  McAuley  so  contagious  as  her 
love  for  the  poor,  and  she  communicated  it  to  every  one  that  ap- 
proached her,  especially  the  Sisters. 

Abont  a  month  after  the  death  of  Sister  Mary  Rose,  six  Sisters, 
four  of  whom  were  to  remain,  set  out  for  Carlow,  where  they  ar^ 
rived  towards  dusk  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Leo  the  Great.  It  was 
a  bleak,  wet  evening,  "  cold,  and  dark,  and  dreary,"  but  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather  did  not  prevent  bishop,  clergy,  and  laity 
from  coming  far  outside  the  town  to  meet  the  Sisters  of  Merot, 
and  give  them  a  hearty  cead  mille  afailthe.  To  please  good  old 
Dr.  Fitzgerald,  they  had  no  sooner  stepped  from  "  Purcell's  mail- 
coach"  than  they  were  conducted  to  the  College,  the  great  hall  of 
which  was  brilliantly  illuminated.  The  students,  of  course,  had  a 
holiday,  and  welcomed  their  guests  with  deafening  cheers  and  clap- 
ping. This  reception  was  an  unlooked-for  ovation  ;  but,  what 
with  surprise  and  fatigue,  and  the  unexpected  and  rather  distressing 
honors  with  which  they  were  overwhelmed,  the  poor  Sisters  were 
half  bewildered.  A  collation  was  prepared  for  them  in  the  Presi- 
dent's room,  during  which  the  Bishop  informed  them  that  Bra- 
ganza  House  (his  own  residence)  and  St.  Patrick's  College  had 
contended  for  the  honor  of  entertaining  them  at  dinner,  while  a  very 
pressing  invitation  came  from  the  Presentation  Nuns,  entreating 
them  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  the  convent ;  "  and  of  course," 
added  the  courtly  prelate,  "  neither  I  nor  the  Doctor  would  main- 
tain a  point  against  the  ladies,  but  yon  shall  decide  for  your- 
selves." Thanking  his  Lordship  and  the  President,  they  got  off  to 
the  Presentation  Convent  as  speedily  as  was  consistent  with  po- 


312 


LIFE  or  CATHKRINE  MCAULEY. 


liteness.  With  the  kind  nuns  they  passed  a  few  happy  hours. 
About  nine,  the  Bishop  returned  to  conduct  them  to  their  own 
convent.  Late  as  it  was,  they  fitted  up  a  temporary  chapel,  in 
which  his  Lordship  next  morning  offered  the  Holy  Sacrifice.  The 
same  day  he  blessed  the  house,  and  dedicated  it  to  St.  Leo  the 
Great,  to  whom  he  was  specially  devoted. 

The  kindness  of  the  Bishop  and  clergy  was  unceasing.  The 
Foundress  is  never  weary  of  extolling  it  in  her  letters.  She  used 
to  say  that  she  never  knew  any  one  that  brought  to  her  mind  our 
Divine  Lord  as  Dr.  Nolan  did.  His  meekness  and  charity,  the 
grace  and  dignity  of  his  demeanor,  and  the  heavenly  beauty  of  his 
countenance,  inspired  in  the  beholder  veneration  and  esteem  ;  and 
he  was  so  easily  approached,  that  all  hf,d  free  access  to  him.  Ho 
was  just  such  a  one  as  she  had  often  begged  of  God  to  pilot  her 
through  her  difiBculties,  to  console  and  direct  her  ;  nor  was  he  un- 
willing to  undertake  this  oESce,  bui  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  in- 
terest himself  deeply  in  her  and  her  Institute,  God  called  him 
home. 

After  a  few  days  in  Carlow,  letters  announcing  that  three  of 
the  Sisters  hid  caught  the  fever  while  serving  the  sick,  recalled 
her  to  Dublin.  There  was  still  much  business  to  be  transacted  for 
the  new  house,  but  nothing  could  deter  her  from  hastenmg  with 
utmost  speed  to  assist  her  suffering  children.  Business  could  wait, 
perhaps  they  would  not ;  and,  at  all  events,  her  chief  business  was 
to  support  and  comfort  in  the  hour  of  trial  those  who  called  her 
Mother.  All  three  recovered.  On  returning  to  Carlow,  she  was 
induced  to  bring  her  niece,  the  *'  innocent,  playful  Catherine,"  then 
in  an  advanced  stage  of  consumption.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  insisting  that 
the  mild  climate  of  Carlow  would  have  a  beneficial  effect.  Every 
attention  was  lavished  on  this  amiable  young  Sister,  but  while 
she  seemed  to  improve,  her  deceitful  disease  was  making  pro- 
gress. 

The  Foundress,  at  the  request  of  Bishop  Nolan,  and  with  the  con-' 
curreuce  of  the  Sisters,  opened  at  St.  Leo's  a  day-school  for  children 
of  the  middle  class,  being  of  opiniou  that  much  good  could  be  done 
for  the  poor  by  educating  these.  She  was  willing  to  undertake 
this  duty  in  places  where  girls  of  that  grade  had  no  other  schools 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Sift 


appy  hour*. 

0  their  own 
ry  cbapel,  iu 
.crifice.    The 

St.  Leo  the 

ceasing.  The 
rs.  She  used 
her  mind  our 
d  charity,  the 
beauty  of  his 
esteem  ;  and 

1  to  him.  He 
jd  to  pilot  her 
nor  was  he  uur 
eginning  to  in- 
lod  called  him 


r  that  three  of 
le  sick,  recalled 
e  transacted  for 
hastening  with 
ness  could  wait, 
ief  business  was 
.  who  called  her 
Carlow,  she  was 
Catherine,"  theu 
dd  insisting  that 
i\  effect.    Every 
Sister,  but  while 
ras  making  pro- 

and  with  the  con- 
•hool  for  children 
od  could  be  done 
ling  to  undertake 
no  other  schools 


to  attend,  for  she  wonid  never  open  any  establishment  that  conld 
possibly  interfere  with  the  prosperity  of  a  similar  one.  Sentiments 
of  compassion  for  the  poor,  of  considerate  kiudni  ,.s  towards  ser- 
vants, of  charity  towards  all  who  need  it,  may  easily  be  impressed 
on  the  tender  minds  of  children  ;  and  such  impressions  are  never 
forgotten.  In  some  places  the  Sisters  apply  the  proceeds  of  the 
Pension  School  to  the  support  of  an  Orphanage  or  Hoose  of 
Mercy.  The  Foundress  wished  that,  when  obliged  to  conduct  such 
schools,  they  should  remi  mber  the  poor,  and  keep  them  chiefly  in 
view.  These  day-«chools  are  now  established  in  connection  with 
almost  every  house  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. 

Sister  M.  Frances  Warde  was  appointed  Superior  of  the  Cap- 
low  Convct,  which  flourished  rapidly.  Several  rich  and  talented 
po&tulantes*  entered,  and  all  the  objects  of  the  Order  were  soon 
in  successful  operation.  Michael  Nolan's  brother,  John,  gave  the 
Sisters  three  thousand  pounds  to  commence  a  new  convent :  their 
sister  was  almost  equally  liberal  to  the  charities  of  the  Institute. 

On  one  of  Mother  McAWy's  visits  to  Carlow,  her  kind,  eccentric 
friend,  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  managed  to  take  oSfence  for  some  imaginary 
cause,  about  which  he  preserved  a  dignified  silence,  though,  as  the 
rvent  proved,  he  was  meditating  signal  vengeance.  He  had  pre- 
viously given  her  r  silver  breakfast  service  for  the  use  of  the  Chap- 
lain or  any  othei  guests  that  might  happen  to  breakfast  at  the 
convent.  Now,  ns  three  Bishops  were  about  to  accept  the  Sisters* 
hospitality,  the  Doctor's  "own  man"  arrived  and  demanded  his 
master's  plate. 

"  Could  you  not  wait  till  after  breakfast,  my  dear  ?"  queried  the 
Foundress. 

"  No,  madam,"  returned  the  servant  ;  "  Father  Andrew  is  in 
the  garden  waiting  for  it,  and  he  ordered  me  not  to  come  back 
without  it.".  . 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,"  said  she,  and  the  service  was  instantly 
restored. 

*  The  fiimilics  of  ti.e  English  and  Iriah  primateg  Bupplied  most  of  the  eailir 
BubjocU  of  St.  Leo'8, — \,h"io  of  II.  £.  Cardinal  Wiseman's  cousins  and  ai  manj' 
of  H.  E.  Cardinal  CuUen's  nieces,  with  several  more  distant  relatives  of  both, 
being  in  the  Novitiate  at  the  Rarao  time.  •.''•(^.V 


l')MT||f|«if(  jiiiii«t»Sl|«>ti ' 


814 


LIFE   OF   CATHEKINE   MCAULET. 


1"     . 


:illliJ 


The  gnesUi  were  left  to  breakfast  without  fork  or  spocn,  to  the 
great  embarrassment  of  their  hostess,  who  could  not  have  foreseen 
such  an  emergency.  Dr.  Nolan,  who  knew  where  the  silver  origin- 
ated, soon  divined  the  cause  of  its  sudden  disappearance,  and 
laughed  heartily. 

"  Let  us  have  lead  spoons  and  steel  forks,"  said  he,  pleasantly. 
"  We  can  use  them  as  well  as  you." 

The  table  was  served  from  the  Sisters'  refectory,  but  his  Lord- 
ship did  not  forget  the  Doctor's  freak.  He  ordered  a  set  of  silver 
spoons  and  forks  from  Dublin,  with  Mercy  fancifully  engraven  on 
each,  and  presented  them  to  the  convent,  of  which,  unlike  their 
predecessors,  they  became  part  of  the  fixed  capital.  Father  An- 
drew enjoyed  the  prank  he  played  very  much,  but  soon  became  a 
little  ashamed  of  It.  Mother  McAuley  never  made  the  remotest 
allusion  to  it. 

He  often  gave  orders  as  though  he  were  Ecclesiastical  Superior. 
She  told  the  Sisters  to  comply  with  bis  injunctions  when  possible, 
and  when  they  could  not,  to  listen  respectfully  and  say  nothing. 
Once  he  purchased  some  fine,  expensive  material,  and  presented  it 
to  a  Sister  for  a  habit.  Knowing  that  she  could  not  wear  any 
thing  BO  costly  without  infringing  on  her  vow  of  poverty,  and  fear- 
ful of  offending  the  Doctor  by  returning  it,  she  mentioned  the  affair 
to  Mother  McAuley,  who  said  : 

*'  Make  it  up  and  wear  it  a  few  times  before  the  Doctor  ;  then 
change  it  into  a  cassock  or  something  else,  but  do  not  tell  him  yon 
did  so.  If  you  said  it  was  against  your  vow  to  wear  it,  this  might 
seem  like  a  correction  and  pain  him,  since  he  is  supposed  to  know 
more  about  the  vows  than  we  do." 

Thus  did  she  manage  to  have  the  rules  kept  without  wounding 
the  feelings  of  the  most  sensitive.  If  there  were  ten  thousand  mles 
to  be  observed,  she  always  remembered  that  "  the  greatest  of  these 
is  charity." 

After  her  return  to  St.  Mary's,  she  had  the  affliction  to  lose  a 
fine,  promising  Sister.  This  she  communicates  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald 
in  a  letter  dated  oa\j  3,  1837,  in  which  also  she  acknowledges  the 
kind  invitation  he  had  given  her  nephews  to  spend  the  vacation  in 
Carlow :  .  .  >      ..<    ,  ^^  : 


LIFE   OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


315 


gpocn,  to  the 
[iave  foreseen 
silver  origin- 
learance,  and 

ie,  pleasantly. 

but  his  Lord- 
a  set  of  silver 
ly  engraven  on 
h,  unlike  their 
.  Father  An- 
30on  became  a 
e  the  remotest 

atical  Snperior. 

1  when  possible, 

nd  say  nothing. 

nd  presented  it 
not  wear  any 
verty,  and  fear- 
tioned  the  affair 

Doctor  ;  then 

|not  tell  him  yon 

iar  it,  this  might 

ipposed  to  know 

[ithout  wounding 

W  thousand  rules 

greatest  of  these 

Jiction  to  lose  a 

[o  Dr.  Fitzgerald 

icknowledges  the 

the  vacation  in 


•'  Mt  dear  Reverend  Father  : 

"  I  received  your  kind  letters,  which  were  very  consoling  to  me. 
Robert*  is  delighted,  P.nd  they  all  have  every  hope  of  getting  leave 
to  go.  It  has  pleased  God  Almighty  to  visit  us  with  another  af- 
fliction ;  we  have  just  sent  our  fine  young  Sister,  M.  Aloyaia 
Thorpe,  to  eternity.  She  died  on  the  tenth  day,  of  violent  fever, 
being  exactly  like  a  person  in  cholera,  cold  and  purple.  Some  kind 
of  circulation  was  kept  up  by  wine,  musk,  cordials,  and  warm  appli- 
cations  ;  but  no  hope  of  recovery  from  the  third  day.  My  poor 
little  Catherine  is  as  cheerful  as  ever,  but  no  symptoms  of  returning 
strength.  A  new  Sister  entered  yesterday  ;  this  is  five  in  a  few 
weeks.  I  believe  we  are  to  go  to  Cork  on  Wednesday.  Dr. 
Murphy  has  waited  for  us  as  long  as  he  could. 

"  Begging  you  to  give  my  most  affectionate  love  to  each  dear 
Sister, 

"  I  am,  with  gratitude  and  respect,  yours  in  Christ, 

"  Mart  C.  McAulet. 

"  Very  Rbv.  Akdrew  Fitzoerald,  D.  D.,  0.  P." 

The  relief  afforded  to  the  poor  in  Carlow  was  a  source  of  im- 
mense  consolation  to  the  Foundress.  "  You  are  truly  happy,"  she 
writes  to  the  Super! .ress,  "  in  all  the  circumstances  of  your  little 
foundation.  I  know  of  nothing  like  it.  How  thankful  yon  should 
be  to  God  that  He  has  made  provision  for  the  poor  about  yon, 
not  to  be  depending  on  voluntary  contributions  at  bazaars  and 
sermons  I  How  happy  shall  I  be  if  God  sends  me,  before  I  die, 
some  certain  resources  for  our  numerous  poor." 

In  October,  183T,  St.  Leo's  lost  one  of  its  best  friends.  The 
saintly  Bishop  was  called  to  "receive  a  reward  suitable  to  hia 
merit8."f  He  died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity,  surrounded  by  his  sor- 
rowing clergy,  and  affectionately  tended  by  the  Sisters  op  Merct 
He  was  perfectly  conscious  to  the  very  act  of  dying.    The  last 

*  Robert,  being  the  most  talented  of  ber  nephewa,  was  tbe  Doctor's  fiivorite. 

t  "  Use  the  utmost  diligence  that  peace,  whioli  is  the  bond  of  Cliristianity, 
may  never  be  broken  among  clergy  or  people ;  and  for  this  yon  may  expect  to 
receive  from  Christ  Jesus,  who  is  the  Prince  of  pastors  and  of  pence,  a  reward 
Buitable  to  your  msr\t';.."—Autograp.'i  Utter  of  Hi*  EoUruit,  Ortgory  XVI.,  t» 
Right  Biv.  Dr.  Nolan. 


viuii'ifjmaMi'  rtiiltoiuli  "•■■ 


■MMilp 


all 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINK  MCAULET. 


words  he  spoke  were  to  recommend  the  Sisters  to  the  care  of  Very 
Ber.  James  Maher,  a  priest  in  whom  he  placed  implicit  confidence. 
The  following  beaatlful  letter  of  condolence  Mother  McAnley  ad- 
dressed to  the  Sister  who  had  given  her  the  sad  news  of  their  loss 
of  this  most  valued  father  and  friend  : 


"  Mr  EVER  DEAR  SisTER  M.  Teresa  : 

"  I  was  partially  prepared  to  receive  the  melancholy  news  con- 
veyed in  your  letter.  The  dear,  saintly  Bishop  has  got  an  early 
crown,  and  we  have  now  a  valued  friend  in  heaven,  whose  advocacy 
will  be  soon  experienced  by  those  who  hambly  bend  to  the  ador- 
able will  of  God.  My  dear  affectionate  Sister,  M.  Frances,  will 
soon,  I  trust,  edify  you  all  by  her  perfect  composure  and  entire 
resignation.  Submit  we  must,  but  we  should  do  more  ;  we  should 
praise  and  bless  the  Hand  that  wounds  us,  and  exhibit  to  all 
around  us  a  calm  appearance.  I  trust  in  God  this  will  be  mani- 
fested in  you  all,  afflicted  as  you  now  are.  When  I  promised  to 
go  to  my  dear  Sister  Frances  in  time  of  trial,  you  may  be  sure,  my 
dear  child,  I  did  not  mean  the  trial  which  death  occasions,  with 
which  I  am  so  familiarized,  that  the  tomb  never  seems  to  be  closed 
in  my  regard.  I  alluded  to  those  difficulties  to  which  her  new 
state  exposed  her,  such  as  incurring  the  displeasure  of  her  spiritual 
superiors  without  design,  experiencing  marks  of  disapprobation, 
and  not  knowing  why.  These  are  some  of  the  bitter  sweets  inci- 
dent to  our  state,  and  most  of  all  requiring  counsel  and  support. 

"  The  sorrow  in  which  she  now  so  deeply  shares,  is  extensively 
divided  and  equally  the  affliction  of  many.  The  Presentation 
Nuns,  who  were  so  long  his  spuitual  children,  had  not,  I  suppose, 
the  comfort  of  seeing  him  ;  and  his  priests  and  people,  what  must 
they  feel  ?  To  regard  it  as  an  individual  sorrow  would  not  be 
right.  Our  portion  of  it  may  well  be 'lost  in  the  lamentations  of 
his  poor  orphaned  people.  Yet  I  can  account  for  my  poor  Sister's 
feeling  so  much  on  thid  distressing  occasion.  The  good  Bishop 
afforded  her  the  chief  comfort  she  felt  on  parting  with  me  ;  still,  I 
know  she  will  not  continue  unmindful  of  the  exalted  obligations  of 
our  holy  state,  and  I  will  confide  in  the  generous  bounty  and  never- 
failing  kindness  of  our  all-mercifuI  Saviour  (to  which,  hcwet  er,  we 


_l 


Liri  OF  CATHBRmi:  icoaulst. 


817 


care  of  Very 

it  confidence. 

McAuley  ad- 

of  their  loss 


oly  news  con- 
got  an  early 
hose  advocacy 
to  the  ador- 
.  Frances,  will 
are  and  entire 
,re  ;  we  should 
exhibit  to  all 
8  will  be  mani- 
1 1  promised  to 
nay  be  sure,  my 
occasions,  with 
:ms  to  be  closed 
which  her  new 
of  her  spiritual 
disapprobation, 
ter  sweets  incl- 
l  and  support. 
!S,  is  extensively 
le  Presentation 
not,  I  suppose, 
ople,  what  must 
Iw  would  not  be 
lamentations  of 
my  poor  Sister's 
le  good  Bishop 
.  ith  me  ;  still,  1 
;ed  obligations  of 
lounty  and  never- 
lich,  however,  we 


must  pnt  no  impediment),  that  He  will  pour  down  on  yon  all,  my 
dear  Sisters,  His  sweet,  abundant  consolations,  and  that  I  shall 
find  you  in  a  few  days  perfectly  tranquil  and  reasonably  cheerful. 

"  With  most  fervent  prayers  and  fond  affection  for  my  tender, 
ardent  Sister,  M.  Frances,  and  for  you  all, 

"  I  remain,  most  sincerely,  your  attached  mother  in  Christ, 

"  Mart  Catherine  McAulet. 
"St,  Maij'b,  Cork,  FeMt  of  St.  Teresa,  1887." 

"  Never  command  any  thing  which  you  have  not  first  practised 
yourself,"  said  an  ancient  Father  ;  but  Reverend  Mother  never 
ventured  to  command  others  a  tenth  part  of  what  she  herself  ha- 
bitually practised.  When  the  heaviest  crosses  were  laid  on  her 
shoulders,  she  joyously  sang  out,  "Hceo  dies  qttem  fecit  /"  when 
ordinary  troubles  befell  her  children,  she  only  asked  them  to  be 
"  reasonably  cheerful,"  and  even  for  this  she  gave  them  '*  a  few  days." 

In  a  subsequent  letter  of  condolence,  she  says  : 

"  You  have  given  all  to  God  without  any  reserve.  Nothing  can 
happen  to  you  which  He  docs  not  appoint  :  you  desire  nothing  but 
the  accomplishment  of  His  will.  Every  thing,  however  trivial, 
comes  from  that  adorable  sonrce.  Yon  must  be  cheerful,  animat- 
ing all  around  you.  You  may  be  sure  we  all  fervently  pray  for 
you  ;  that  is  the  !;8flt  thing  we  ca'j  do.  If  yon  had  seen  the  gen- 
eral feeling  which  prev&i'nd  <it  recreation  last  night,  yon  might 
have  almost  thonght  that  tee  were  strangers  to  such  sorrows." 

A  letter  of  a  pleasanter  nature  was  addressed  by  Reverend 
Mother  to  Carlow,  on  the  28th  of  December,  1837.  It  was  Holy 
Innocents'  Day,  and  she  seems  to  have  imbibed  no  small  share 
of  the  general  hilarity.  The  chaplaincy  trouble  was  then  at  its 
height,  and  Father  Daniel  Nolan,  brother  to  the  late  Bishop,  had 
been  kindly  performing  the  office  of  chaplain  to  St.  Mary's  for  a 
few  days. 

"  It  is  CO  wonder  I  should  like  my  adopted  son  *  for  he  is  a  real 
rogue  according  to  my  own  taste.    The  franksf  we  sent  for  came 

*  From  a  fancied  momblaDce  to  lier  deceased  niece,  she  ilv^jn  called  Father 
Nolan  her  adopted  sou.    He  was  Chaplain  to  8t.  Leo's,  Carlo«r, 
i  Vranks.    This  was  l>efore  the  estAblishment  of  the  penny  postaj^e. 


■■iWnilMjMi 


818 


LIFE  OF  CATHEKINE  MCAULET. 


while  he  was  here.  I  said  I  had  nothing  to  say  in  yours,  and  he 
proponed  that  I  should  write,  hiating,  or  in  part  saying,  that  he 
was  likely  to  remain  chaplain,  and  that  I  should  endeavor  gradu- 
ally to  reconcile  you  to  this.  Though  all  was  ready — artfully 
done  so  as  not  to  tell  an  untruth — I  found  I  could  not  send  it, 
lest  it  might  give  you  a  passing  motion  of  uneasiness.  Play  your 
part  well,  however.  My  son  will  appear  quite  embarrassed.  Be 
surprised  that  I  could  think  of  taking  any  more  comfort  from  you, 
&c.,  &c.,  &c.,  and  when  you  have  him  well  cheated,  discover  the 
plot.  I  was  heartily  delighted  to  see  him.  He  is  like  my  Mary 
Teresa,  and  certainly  as  innocent." 

This  playful  scrap  is  not  without  its  value,  as  giving  a  glimpse 
of  the  beautiful  character  of  one  who  could  enter  into  a  joke  as 
well  as  the  youngest  of  her  children,  but  who  was  perfectly  pow- 
erless to  carry  it  out,  if  she  thought  it  calculated  to  cause  "  a 
passing  motion  of  uneasiness,'"  to  any  one. 

Right  Rev.  Francis  Haly,  who  succeeded  Dr,  Nolan,  was  very 
friendly  to  the  Sisterhood,  and  is  often  mentioned  by  the  Foundress 
in  grateful  terms.  To  the  Superioress  she  writes  :  "  The  charac- 
ter of  your  Bishop  is  most  amiable.  He  is  ever  kind  to  us.  God 
has  given  you  a  good  father  in  him." 

Dr.  Fitzgerald  was  the  first  who  observed  the  failing  health  of 
Mother  McAuley.  In  the  following  letter,  after  reminding  her  of 
the  great  things  God  had  wrought  by  her  humble  instrumentality, 
he  tells  her  that  she  carries  the  treasures  of  heaven  in  a  fragile 
vessel,  requiring  frequent  repairs  :  and  then  facetioasly  invites  her 
to  make  the  said  repairs  in  Carlow.  Towards  the  close,  the  stern 
preacher  is  lost  in  the  tender  father  and  affectionate  friend.  Few 
men  of  his  age  could  indite  a  better  epistle  :  ' 


':)     li 


"  Cahlow  Coluqe,  Aug.  4, 1840 
"  Mv  DVAR  FrIENO  i 

"  I  do  not  think  my  holy  patron,  St.  Dominic,  ever  received  more 
sincere  devotional  feelings  from  me,  his  unworthy  son,  than  I  offered 
him  this  Jay.  You  are  not  aware  that  you  contributed  to  excite 
this  warmth  of  devotion  ;  yet  so  it  is.  The  dear  Sisters  of  Mercy 
attended  my  Mass,  and  partook  with  mo  of  the  Bread  of  Tjife. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


819 


yours,  and  he 
vying,  that  he 
deavor  grada- 
eady— artfully 
[1  not  send  it, 
3.  Play  your 
)arrassed.  Be 
ifort  from  you, 
d  discover  the 
like  my  Mary 

ving  a  glimpse 

into  a  joke  as 

,  perfectly  pow- 

jd  to  cause  "  a 

l!f  olan,  wa*  very 
y  the  Foundress 
:  "  The  charac- 
ind  to  us.    God 

failing  health  of 
cminding  her  of 
instrumentality, 
vcn  in  a  fragile 
acisly  invites  her 
close,  the  stem 
ate  friend.    Few 


BOB,  Aug.  4, 1340 

rer  received  more 
on,  than  I  offered 
ributed  to  excite 
Sisters  of  Mercy 
e  Bread  of  liife. 


Could  my  heart  be  cold  in  such  company  ?  And  was  it  not  you 
who,  assisted  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  formed  that  company,  and  gave 
them  to  us  to  dispense  and  obtain  Mercy  ?  Truly,  I  may  say  that 
God  took  you  out  of  darkness  to  spread  His  light ;  and  you  are 
spreading  if  under  His  vocation  in  humility  of  heart,  knowing  that  of 
yourself  you  are  nothing,  but  all  things  in  Him  that  strengthens  you. 
It  is  delightful  to  reflect  on  the  success  of  your  late  mission.  Eng- 
land, as  in  former  times,  sends  her  virgins*  amongst  us  to  see  how 
Ireland  has  learned  from  long-suflFering  to  be  compassionate  to- 
wards human  misery,  and  God  has  made  you  au  agent  for  these 
purposes.  See  '  the  big  house,'f  the  object  of  which  could  not  be 
divined  by  the  wise  ones  of  this  world,  and  which  even  you  could 
not  distinctly  foresee  I  Now,  what  a  teeming  Mother  you  are  ! — 
your  children,  reared  imder  one  roof,  proclaiming  in  distant  quar- 
ters the  mercies  of  God  to  His  people  I  How  humbled  you  should 
be  to  think  that,  with  all  the  infirmities  that  accompany  you,  you 
have  been  selected  to  diflFuso  His  bounty  to  His  suffering  children  I 
Now,  my  dear  friend,  glory  in  these  infirmitios,  that  the  power  of 
Christ  may  be  perfected  in  you. 

"  But  you  must  sometimes  think  that  you  carry  the  treasures  of 
God  in  a  fragile  veesel,  liable  to  break  and  chink,  and  requiring 
frequent  repairs,  to  effect  which  you  cannot  have  leisure  amid  the 
various  intrusions  of  those  immediately  about  you.  Break  from 
them,  and  come  down  to  the  calm,  quiet  residence  of  your  children 
here.  A  few  days  with  ns  will  renovate  mind  and  body,  and  send 
you  home  fresh  for  new  toils.  Renjember,  God  has  given  you 
charge  of  the  health  yon  employ  in  His  service.  Come  to  us,  and 
we  shall  send  yo  u  back  laden  with  that  blessing.  Mind,  I  hate 
that  cough  which  annoys  you,  and  here  we  have  a  certain  ct'.o  for 
it.  Now,  my  dearest  old  friend,  in  unison  with  all  here,  I  "  -rnestly 
beg  of  you  to  have  compassion  on  yourself  and  on  the  many  intfT- 
ested  in  you,  and  come  down  here  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  Though  almost  blmd,  I  cannot  give  up  scribbling  to  you  as 


•  He  nlludes  to  tho  English  ladies  who  oiimo  to  Ireland  in  188R,  to  oirve  ■ 
Novitiftto  for  the  piirposo  of  introducing  tho  Order  of  Mercy  into  England, 
t  "  The  Big  Uouse"  wub  the  nioknams  of  lioggot-Btreot  House  in  lttS6. 


MUgilUUi 


tm 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBINE  HOAULET. 


long  as  the  sheet  pennits.    I  will  conclude  bj  earnestly  repeating 
yoor  obligation  of  coming  down  to  oar  good  air. 

"  With  all  the  affection  of  my  old  heart,  I  am,  dearest  friend, 
"  Yonr  ever-devoted  brother  in  Christ, 

"AkDBKW   FrrZOEBALD." 


:!-;|! 


lull  I 


Mother  McAulcy  gratefolly  acknowledged  this  affectionate  in- 
vitation, but  did  not  comply  with  it.  Only  to  visit  the  sick  and 
establish  new  convents,  did  she  ever  leave  St.  Mary's.  When  she 
observed  others  in  ftuling  health  she  procured  them  change  of  air 
but  her  own  spurit  of  poverty  would  not  permit  her  to  make  use 
of  this  remedy  ;  and  when  urged  to  do  so  oa  plea  of  the  loss  her 
death  might  occasion,  s' <$  said  sweetly:  "The  Order  is  God's 
work,  not  mine.  It  will  do  just  as  \^11  without  me."  The  motto 
already  quoted,  she  fully  observed  : 


IIow  Baored  is  Aeir  obasto  abode  I 


Ne'er  quitted  but  to  tolac*  man, 
Ne'er  entered  but  to  vorthip  Ood,^' 

The  nons  of  George's  Hill  were  pressing  her  for  eight  years  to 
pay  them  a  visit  before  she  complied,  and  even  when  she  went,  it 
was  bat  as  a  secondary  person,  a  companion  to  "  Oeraldine,"  who 
had  just  been  professed,  and  whom  the  nuns  were  most  anxious 
to  see. 

Several  letters  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald  are  found  in  Mother  McAuley's 
correspondence,  in  one  of  which  she  says,  after  mentioning  some  of 
the  pecuniary  affairs  of  St.  Mary's 

"  You  see  I  must  tell  you  all,  -  <;  i  know  you  are  so  greatly 
interested.  I  can  never  forget,  my  a-  a.'  air,  all  the  animating  hope 
yoa  created  in  my  micd  when  we  were  risiu;  j  out  of  nothing." 

In  a  letter  to  St.  Leo's  she  expresses  a  regret  that  the  Doctor, 
who  was  then  engaged  with  a  dentist  in  Dublin,  had  not  been  in- 
vited to  some  ceremony.  "  He  could  not  have  come,"  she  writes, 
"and  this  you  might  have  pardoned;  but  your  not  asking  him 
Boems  remarkable.  I  am  very  sorry  for  this.  If  you  could  only 
Boe  how  dejectedly  he  told  as  yoa  had  sent  him  no  invitation, 
you  would  feel  as  I  do."  «       , 


'■Uffl 


/ 


.;  JbSWa 


other  McAuley'8 
intioning  some  of 

)u  are  so  greatly 

lo  animating  hope 

)f  nothing." 
that  the  Doctor, 
had  not  been  in* 

)me,"  she  writes, 
not  asking  him 
f  yoa  could  only 

im  no  invitation, 


LITE  OF  OATHKBINE  MOAULET. 


821 


istly  repeating 

irest  friend, 

it, 

FrrzGEBAiJ).'* 

iffectionate  in- 
it  the  sick  and 
^'8.  When  she 
change  of  air^ 
;r  to  make  use 
of  the  loss  her 
Order  is  God's 
e."    The  motto 


r  eight  years  to 
len  she  went,  it 
9eraldine;'  who 
re  most  anxioos 


Sach  passages  as  these  may  seem  animportant,  bat  they  gire  a 
deep  insight  into  the  heart  of  the  writer  ;  proving  how  grieved  she 
was  when  her  Sisters,  however  involuntarily,  gave  the  slightest 
cause  of  displeasure  to  any  persons,  especially  to  such  as  had  been 
friendly  to  the  Institute. 

Dr.  Fitzgerald  survived  his  "dearest  old  friend"  but  a  few 
months,  dying  in  1842. 

*14 


/ 


MIM^I 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


The  Cork  Foundntion.— MisB  Barbara  Goold.— "  Saint  Marie's  of  the  Isle."— 
The  Foundress  incurs  the  displeasure  of  the  Bishop. — "  Catherine  tlie  Less." 
— An  eligible  postulantc— The  Meeting  of  the  Waters. — Largo,  Lento,  e 
Orave. — Death  of  Little  Catherine. — Her  Aunt's  letter.— Dr.  Murphy. — Severe 
retort. — A  heavy  purse  end  a  fair  eaoutoheon. — The  English  Sisters. — A 
compliment. 

WHEN  the  Foundress  retnrned  from  Carlow,  June,  1837,  she 
found  Bishop  Murphy  so  pressing  for  bis  promised  colony, 
that  he  refused  to  wait  any  longer.  The  increasing  illness  of  her 
"  innocent,  playful  Catherine"  might  occasion  some  delay,  had  not 
the  well-tried  aunt  stifled  those  sentiments  of  grief  which  would 
become  a  hindrance  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  Divine  will. 
Taking  Sister  M.  Clara  Moore  (the  only  one  of  her  "  first  seven  " 
remaining  except  the  Mistress  of  Novices*),  Sister  M.  Josephine 
Warde,  and  some  others,  she  set  out  for  Cork,  which  she  reached 
July  6th,  183T.  Long  before  the  little  party  came  within  sound 
of  the  famous  Bells  of  Shandon,  they  were  warmly  greeted  by 
numbers  of  the  clergy  and  laity,  who  seemed  to  vie  with  each 
other  in  testifying  their  respect  and  affection.  The  Bishop's  rela- 
tives, several  of  whom  were  among  the  merchant  princes  of  "  the 
beautiful  citie,"  were  munificent  in  their  benefactions  to  the  Insti- 
tute, proving  that  if  they  possessed  not  royal  blood,  they  certainly 
had  royal  hearts.  A  spacious  and  well-adapted  house,  fully  fur- 
nished in  conventual  style,  was  presented  to  the  Sisters,  with  a  gift 
of  two  thousand  pounds,  by  Miss  Barbara  Goold,  a  lady  of  great 
wealth  and  greater  charity,  who,  during  a  long  and  useful  life, 
lately  terminated,  never  ceased  to  "  make  friends  to  herself  of  the 
mammon  of  iniquity." 

•  Sister  M.  Dl  Paul  Delanjr. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


8i8 


>'8  of  the  Isle."— 
lierine  the  Less." 
-Lnrgo,  Lento,  o 
Murphy.— Severe 
iglUh  Bisters.— A 


rune.  183:,  she 
iromised  colony, 
ag  illness  of  her 
delay,  had  not 
ef  which  would 
the  Divine  will, 
er  "first  seven" 
ter  M.  Josephine 
lich  she  reached 
ne  within  sound 
vnly  greeted  by 
a  vie  with  each 
he  Bishop's  rela- 
;  princes  of  "  the 
ions  to  the  Insti- 
)d,  they  certainly 
house,  fully  fur- 
listers,  with  a  gift 
a  lady  of  great 
and  useful  life, 
B  to  herself  of  the 


On  the  evening  of  their  arrival,  several  ladies  provided  a  sump- 
tnous  repast,  which,  when  Mother  McAuley  had  seen,  she  refused 
to  touch,  saying  that  such  delicious  viands  were  too  good  for  poor 
people  like  Sisters  of  Mercy.  Thus  she  ever  loved  to  identify  her- 
self with  the  poor,  and  could  not  bear  to  be  better  fed  or  lodged 
than  they.  Being  somewhat  hungry,  however,  she  sought  some- 
thing less  expensive,  and  discovering  some  old  crusts  in  the  pantry, 
dined  cheerfully  on  them,  leaving  the  "  creature  comforts"  of  a  more 
delicate  description  for  the  sick  poor. 

Rutland-street  House,  although  otherwise  well  adapted  for  con- 
ventual purposes,  was  in  a  gloomy  location  off  one  of  the  quays, 
and  its  garden  was  not  much  larger  than  a  viouchoir.  In  a  few 
years  it  was  replaced  by  the  magnificent  Gothic  convent,  now 
known  as  St.  Marie's  of  the  Isle,  erected  chiefly  through  the  ex- 
ertions of  the  present  Bishop,  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Delany,  and  the 
principal  inhabitants.  It  stands  on  an  islet  between  two  branches 
of  the  River  Lee,  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  Dominican  abbey,  whose 
name  it  retains,  suppressed  after  the  Ri  irmatiou.  The  chapel, 
cloister,  and  convent  are  built  of  a  reddisli-brown  stone,  with 
bright  limestone  quoins,  door  dressings,  mullions,  &c.  The  orphan- 
age and  House  of  Mercy,  built  in  the  same  style,  are  connected 
with  the  main  building  by  long  cloisters.  Within  the  convent  are 
two  memorial  chapels,*  exquisitely  fitted  up ;  the  corridors, 
chapter-room,  community-room,  and  refectory  are  probably  un- 
equalled in  Ireland.  This  fine  pile  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
ornaments  of  the  ancient  Catholic  city  of  Cork,  which,  indeed,  is 
far  richer  in  natural  than  in  architectural  beauty. 

A  day-school  for  the  middle  classes  was  opened  here  by  the 
Foundress,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Bishop  ;  the  Ursuline  Convent 
at  Blackrock  being  two  miles  from  the  city,  and  intended  chiefly 
for  the  upper  classes.    A  hospital  was  added  after  some  time, 

•  Olio  of  these  memorial  chapels,  dedicated  to  the  "Angels  of  the  Holy  SouU," 
was  decorated  by  tlio  Rev.  William  Cimniiigham,  as  a  monument  to  his  deceased 
brother,  for  whose  repose  Mass  is  offered  there  at  statod  times.  The  otlier, 
Hattr  MUericord'uB,  was  fitted  up  by  Mrs.  Lyons,  n  ricli  benevolent  lady,  who 
atlerwards  Joined  tlie  Sisters.  Both,  though  suiall,  are  perfect  gems  iu  tlnlr 
kind.  . 


ter^Mi 


mm 


mp 


-^iHwfc. 


824 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBIKE  HCAULET. 


I'l    ji^' 


11  i5  i 


illlVi 

i  ilpi 

Hi 


■I  ( 


t  If' 


called  the  Mercy  Hospital.  In  the  noble  schools  erected  on  "  the 
Isle,"  over  twelve  hundred  children  receive  grataitocs  education. 
Some  hundreds  of  poor  girls  earn  a  comfortable  subsistence  for 
themselves,  and  occasionally  for  their  families,  in  the  Industrial 
Day  School,  in  which  department  is  executed  every  description  of 
plain  and  fancy  work,  embroidery,  knitting,  netting,  and  that 
peculiar  invention  of  the  ninetpenth  century,  crochet,  which,  in 
its  higher  grades,  rivals  the  finest  laces,  and  is  extensively  used  in 
royal  and  imperial  ball-rooms.  Schools  of  this  description*  are 
fonnd  in  connexion  with  almost  every  Convent  of  Mercy  in  Ireland, 
&c. 

W)u.<;  in  Cork,  the  Foundress  had  the  misfortune  to  incnr  the 
displeasure  of  the  Bishop  by  admitting  a  young  lady  whose  dower 
was  not  considered  well  secured.  His  Lordship  had  intimated  his 
views  on  the  qualifications  he  looked  for  in  candidates,  but  she  did 
not  understand  his  intimations  in  the  light  of  prohibitions,  and  she 
was  very  sorry  for  being  so  unfortunate  as  to  displease  him.  An- 
other and  more  painful  affliction,  however,  hurried  her  from  Cork, 
which  she  left  July  24th,  to  assist  at  the  death-bed  of  her  "  inno- 
cent, playful  Catherine." 

This  sweet  creature  was  the  delight  of  her  Aunt  and  Sisters. 
Of  medium  height,  with  a  face  in  which  sweetness  and  innocence 
were  mirrored,  her  bine  eyes  and  fair  complexion  contrasted  with 
the  beauty  of  her  lovely  sister.  Her  talents,  though  not  very 
brilliant,  had  been  cultivated  with  assiduous  care.  In-many  things 
she  resembled  her  illustrious  kinswoman  ;  her  cheerfulness  never 
forsook  her  for  a  moment — in  fact,  she  seemed  the  happiest  of 
human  beings,  and  it  was  hardly  possible  to  look  into  her  sunny 
countenance  without  reflecting  some  of  its  rays.  Her  joyousness 
arose  from  simple  ignorance  of  evil ;  she  had  a  thousand  winning 
ways  by  which  old  and  young  were  irresistibly  drawn  towards  her. 
She  was  gay  without  levity,  playful  without  childishness. 

"  Little  Catherine"  had  the  keenest  sense  of  the  ridiculous  ;  her 
aunt  was  always  afraid  to  meet  her  eye  when  any  thing  comical  cc- 

*  Many  of  these,  AS  those  of  KinBale,  <&o.,  would  doservo  partioulnr  notioe 
did  out  space  permit  us  to  mention  any  besides  tboae  oonnectod  willi  tho  oon- 
ventK  founded  by  Mother  MeAuiey. 


LIPB  OF  OATHBRUrK  MCAULET. 


8S5 


icted  on  "  the 
»C3  education, 
ibsistence  for 
the  Industrial 
description  of 
ng,  and  that 
^et,  which,  in 
nsively  used  in 
ficription*  are 
rcy  in  Ireland, 

le  to  incur  the 
y  whose  dower 
d  intimated  his 
es,  but  she  did 
)itions,  and  she 
lase  him.  An- 
ler  from  Cork, 
of  her  '*  inno- 

ot  and  Sisters. 
and  innocence 
contrasted  with 
ough  not  very 
Inmany  things 
jerfulness  never 
the  happiest  of 
into  her  sunny 
Her  joyousness 
lousand  winning 
m  towards  her. 
iness. 

ridiculous  ;  her 
ling  comical  oj- 

ptnioulnr  notloo, 
ctod  wiUi  Ute  ooa- 


cnrred,  for  fear  of  upsetting  her  own  gravity.  On  one  occasion  a 
clergyman*  whom  she  had  inadvertently  offended,  sent  to  St. 
Mary's  a  postulante  totally  unsuited,  though  very  pious,  to  dismiss 
whom  would  be  a  signal  for  a  fresh  storm.  When  persons  of  this 
class  were  sent,  whom  it  would  be  imprudent  to  send  away  at 
once,  her  plan  was  to  let  them  remain  awhile,  during  which  the 
objects  of  the  Institute  were  explained  to  them  in  such  a  manner 
that  they  generally  offered  of  their  own  accord,  to  retire,  and  thus, 
by  her  prudence,  neither  they  nor  those  who  sent  them  took  offence. 

The  lady  alluded  to  entered  with  little  Catherine  in  1834,  and 
was  in  externals  a  great  contrast  to  her.  Mother  McAuIey  in- 
troduced both  at  recreation,  but  the  former  having  no  conversaw 
tional  powers,  "  Little  Catherine"  came  to  the  rescue.     "  Can  yon 

sing,  Miss  M ,"  said  she.    The  hitherto  mute  lady  breathed  an 

almost  inaudible  "  yes,"  and  signified  her  intention  of  dispensing 
with  an  accompaniment. 

Among  the  delightful  lyrics  of  Moore,  few  possess  more  beauty 
than  the  well-known  "  Meeting  of  the  Waters."  Melody  ripples 
through  every  line  ;  it  is  one  of  those  exquisite  gems  of  song 
which,  once  familiar,  will  often  float  unbidden  through  a  mind  that 

would  fain  muse  on  higher  things.    Miss  M began  to  sing,  if 

we  may  apply  that  term  to  her  performance,  this  exquisite  strain 
with  a  sepulchral  voice,  and  as  she  proceeded  her  countenance  as- 
sumed an  expression  of  awful  solemnity.  The  (bur  long  verses  of 
the  "  Meeting"  were  rendered  in  a  movenient  some  degrees  slower 
than  the  largo  in  "  Mozart's  Requiem."  Mother  McAuley  ob- 
serving her  risible  Catherine  nearly  convulsed  with  suppressed 
laughter,  motioned  her  out  of  the  room.  Most  of  the  postulantes 
following  her  example,  the  audience  became  "  small  by  degrees, 
and  beautifully  less."  When  the  vocalist  finished  the  verse  "  Sweet 
Vale  of  Avoca,"  she  repeated  the  third,  and  having  encored  her- 
self several  times,  at  last  gave  up  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

*  Ho  took  offence  bocausa  he  had  called  at  St.  Mary's  throe  times,  and  Mother 
McAuley  happened  to  be  out  at  each  viiiit.  lie  then  declared  he  would  never 
darken  Baggot-atreot  House  again,  adding,  "  It  is  harder  to  see  Misa  McAuley 
tbau  it  used  to  be,  in  my  youtli,  to  see  Pope  Oaiiganelli."  He  relented,  how- 
ever, and  the  Foundress  was  within  when  next  he  oame. 


wmm 


r  m 


LITE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


"  The  '  Meeting  of  the  Waters'  is  a  very  beantifol  song,  my 
dear,"  remarked  the  Fonndress,  with  admirable  pclf-possession. 
Little  Catherine  was  adrancing  to  request  another  song,  when  a 
look  from  her  aunt,  who  could  not  stand  much  more,  restrained 
her.  In  a  few  days  Miss  M announced  her  desire  of  remov- 
ing her  goods  and  chattels  to  other  quarters  ;  but  it  speaks  well 
for  the  prudence  and  charity  of  Mother  McAuley,  that  of  all  who 
had  been  obliged  to  leave  St.  Mary's,  not  one  ever  departed  with 
nnfriendly  or  nnoharitable  feelings  towards  the  Commanity  or  the 
Foundress. 

The  virtues  of  little  Catherine  were  such,  that  her  aunt  often 
said  that  "  she  was  fit  to  unite  with  the  angels."  Her  piety, 
charity,  and  amiability  were  quite  wonderful.  Poor  children  were 
the  most  beloved  objects  of  her  zeal  ;  for  these  she  performed  the 
meanest  offices  in  a  manner  which  proved  that  she  served  Jesus 
Christ  in  them.  For  about  a  year  she  had  been  struggling  with  a 
milder  form  of  consumption.  In  the  beginning  of  July  she  was 
attacked  with  the  fainting  fits  which  usually  have  a  fatal  termina- 
tion in  that  disease,  and  when  her  aunt  returned  from  Cork,  life 
was  fast  ebbing.  She  passed  away  on  the  1th  of  August,  and  on 
the  8th  the  Foundress  thus  communicated  uer  bereavement  to  Dr. 
Fitzgerald  : 

"  My  dear  Rev.  Sib  :  Our  innocent  little  Catherine*  is  out  of 
this  miserable  world.  She  departed  a  little  before  twelve,  last 
night.  Thanks  be  to  Ood,  she  suffered  very  little — not  more  than 
one  hour  of  distressed  breathing— and  her  playfulness  continued  to 
the  last,  mingled  with  an  occasional  awful  feeling,  but  nothing  like 
melancholy.  She  received  the  last  sacraments  on  Saturday,  with 
great  fervor  and  delight.  We  feel  just  now  as  if  all  the  house 
was  dead,  so  sorry  are  we  all  to  part  with  our  sweet,  animated 
little  companion. 

'Little  Catherine's  great  de'.ight  was  to  perform  with  her  own  hands  for  the  poor 
little  ones  those  kind  ofBoes  which,  though  little  in  themselves,  are  proofs  of  a 
generous  and  affectionate  heart,  and  a  loul  overflowing  with  charity.  Those  who 
bad  the  happiness  of  being  associated  willt  her  in  the  performance  of  her  duties, 
M  members  of  the  Sisterhood,  long  preserved  the  recollection  of  her  worth,  and 
(till  speak  of  her  with  the  most  affectionate  remembrance." — Bkelohei  qf  Jriih 
JVunnerie*,  p.  156. 


LIFB  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


827 


tiful  song,  my 
nclf-possession. 

song,  when  a 
ore,  restrained 
sire  of  remov- 

it  speaks  well 
;hat  of  all  who 

departed  with 
mmanity  or  the 

her  aunt  often 
J."    Her  piety, 
r  children  were 
5  performed  the 
le  served  Jesus 
:,ruggling  with  a 
of  July  she  was 
a  fatal  termina- 
from  Cork,  life 
August,  aad  on 
eavement  to  Dr. 

ierine*i8  out  of 

ore  twelve,  last 

not  more  than 

less  continued  to 

but  nothing  like 

Saturday,  with 

if  all  the  house 

sweet,  animated 


hands  for  the  poor 
Ives,  are  proofs  of  a 
sharity.  Those  who 
rmance  of  her  duties, 
on  of  her  worth,  and 
'—SkeloheM  qf  Irish 


"  I  hope  you  have  been  pretty  well  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you.  The  Sisters  here  are  in  retreat,  except  those  en« 
gaged  with  me  in  the  scene  of  sorrow.  Thank  God,  it  is  over.  I 
know  you  will  pray  for  me.  As  for  her,  I  believe  she  was  fit  to 
unite  with  the  angels,  so  pure,  so  sincerely  devoted  to  God  was 
she.  May  I  beg  you  to  give  my  most  affectionate  love  to  my 
dearest  Sisters,  and>  to  believe  me,  dear  Rev.  Sir,  with  great  re- 
spect and  esteem, 

"  Your  attached  and  faithful 

"  Mary  Catherine  McAclkt. 
"  Tery  Rev.  Andrew  FrrzaiRAU),  Ac,  &c." 

This  letter,  written  as  it  was,  beside  the  mortal  remains  of  her 
whom  she  loved  best  on  earth,  and  in  the  first  moments  of  be- 
reavement, evinces  great  nobility  of  soul.  Catherine  was  her 
name-child,  she  had  watched*  over  her  from  infancy  with  maternal 
love,  and  formed  her  plastic  heart  to  every  virtue.  Mary  Teresa 
had  been  her  companion,  but  Catherine  she  regarded  as  her  child  : 
yet  ever  unselfish,  she  seeks  no  sympathy,  she  makes  common 
cause  with  the  Sisters,  and  writes  as  if  they  had  as  much  reason, 
to  be  grieved  as  she.  But  deeply  as  they  regretted  the  void  or 
casioned  by  the  departure  of  their  joyous  young  companion,  they 
could  not  feel  as  their  sorrow-stricken  mother  felt.  Yet  this  death 
was  rather  a  consolation  than  an  afiSiction.  "  I  know  you  will  pray 
for  me.  As  for  her,  I  believe  she  was  fit  to  unite  with  the  angels." 
How  pure,  how  holy  must  this  angelic  creature  have  been,  when 
her  saintly  relative,  who  knew  her  every  thought,  refrains  from 
asking  Dr.  Fitzgerald  to  remember  her  in  the  Holy  Sacrifice  I 
Could  she  speak  more  confidently,  had  she  been  favored  with  a 
revelation  of  her  "  mnocent  Gatheiine's"  admission  to  the  realms 
of  bliss? 

On  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption,  1837,  she  writes  of  her  god- 
child :  "  Teresa  hos  received  the  cap  to-day  to  fill  my  dearest 
child's  vacancy.    She  is  delighted,  and  promises  great  things  ; 

*  Catherine  lived  in  Baggot-stroet  from  the  deatli  of  her  fatlier,  1829.  8he 
and  tlie  Foundress'  godchild,  Teresa,  were  educated  by  governesses,  who  daily 
attended  to  instruct  them.  When  Catherine  entered  the  novitiate,  in  1884, 
Teresa  was  sent  to  a  boardiog-scnool,  near  Dublin,  conducted  by  a  Mrs,  Ilioklk 


828 


«p 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINS  IICAULEY. 


if 


may  God  give  her  the  grace  of  holy  perseverance."  She  then 
apostrophizes  the  life  of  a  Sister  of  Mercy  :  "  O  blessed  and  hap- 
py life,  which  makes  death  so  sweet !"  But  her  thoughts  arc  with 
her  departed  one,  for  she  presently  adds  :  "  Our  dear  Catherine 
might  indeed  have  sung,  in  the  last  hours  of  her  innocent  life,  '  O 
Death  I  where  is  thy  sting  V  for  she  did  not  seem  to  feel  any." 
Three  months  later,  a  passage  in  one  of  her  letters  shows  that  her 
heart  is  still  bleeding  for  the  loss  ot  her  "sweet,  animated,  little 
companion : 

"  I  hope  to  be  in  Carlow  by  half-past  twelve,  Thursday  night. 
I  entreat  that  you  all  will  go  to  rest  as  usual.  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  speak  till  morning.  If  you  conveniently  can,  give  mc  a  place  to 
rest  alone  in  for  a  few  hours,  but  7wt  where  I  was  with  my  child" 

Pressing  business  prevented  her  return  to  Cork  till  the  middle  of 
September,  on  the  eighth  of  which  she  wrote  : 

"  I  expected  to  be  in  Cork  before  this.  The  poor  Sisters  will  be 
greatly  disappointed.  I  am  now  waiting  for  a  packet,  one  just  got 
off  without  my  having  heard  of  it.  I  left  my  poor  Sister  M.  Ckre 
in  a  very  unfinished  state.  She  writes  full  of  doubts  and  fears,  and 
no  wonder.  I  know  she  has  too  much  to  encounter  till  the  way  \b 
made  easier  for  hur.    Please  God,  I  will  soon  go  there." 

During  her  second  visit,  she  completely  regained  the  good  old 
Bishop's  favor.  She  ever  held  him  in  great  esteem,  revering  him 
as  a  father,  and  following  his  wise  counsels.  He  bestowed  many 
benefactions  on  the  House  of  Mercy,  which  was  his  favorite  object 
of  charity,  and  in  his  will  bequeathed  to  the  convent  part  of  his 
library  and  some  valuable  oil  paintings.  He  used  to  say,  that  he 
daily  carried  all  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  in  his  heart  when  he  offered 
the  Holy  Sacrifice.  Indeed,  he  was  a  father  to  all  the  Religions 
in  his  diocese,  and  was  known,  in  more  places  than  one,  as  "  the 
Bishop  who  was  fond  of  books  and  Religious  society."     One  day, 

as  he  entered  the  recreation-room  of  the  N Convent,  a  merry 

little  postulant  rallied  him  pleasantly  on  his  supposed  preference  for 
the  Order  of  Morcy.  "  I  don't  see  why  you  are  so  fond  of  those 
new  Orders,  my  Lord,"  said  she.  "  They  want  more  help  than  the 
old  ones,"  returned  the  venerable  patriarch,  for  those  who  most 
needed  his  assistance,  always  got  most  of  it. 


jabm 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


329 


«."  She  then 
essed  and  hap- 
)ught8  arc  with 
dear  Catherine 
nocent  life, '  O 
1  to  feel  any." 
shows  that  her 
animated,  little 

Thursday  night, 
ihallnotbe  able 
re  me  a  place  to 
with  my  child," 
ill  the  middle  of 

!or  Sisters  will  be 
kct,  one  just  got 
Sister  M.  Clare 
ts  and  fears,  and 
er  till  the  way  is  • 
there." 

id  the  good  old 
sm,  revering  him 
bestowed  many 
is  favorite  object 
vent  part  of  his 
to  say,  that  he 
when  he  ofifered 
all  the  Religious 
lan  one,  as  "  the 
liety."     One  day, 
Convent,  a  merry 
sed  preference  for 
so  fond  of  those 
ore  help  than  the 
those  who  most 


' 


But  an  animated  discussion  of  the  relative  merit  of  different  Or- 
ders having  eusned,  and  the  Bishop  perceiving  that  her  zealous 
esprit  du  corps  was  in  danger  of  becoming  inordinate,  pleasantly 
cried  out : 

"  Ah,  my  child,  you  love  your  own  the  best,  and  yon  therefore 
argue  that  it  must  be  the  best.  '  The  currier  thinks  there  is  no- 
thing like  leather.' " 

His  retorts  were  not  always  complimentary.  To  a  young  Sister 
of  high  birth,  whom  he  heard  giving  expression  to  some  aristo- 
cratic ideas,  he  said : 

"  Your  family  is  good,  and  virtue  gives  lustre  to  its  antiquity  ; 
but  take  care,  my  child,  lest  you  become  a  crooked  branch  of  a 
good  tree." 

Never  again  did  a  word  escape  her  which  could  intimate 
whether  she  was  of  patrician,  plebeian,  or  equestrian  origin. 

"  I  have  a  fiira  hope,"  wrote  the  Foundress  to  the  Superioress 
of  St.  Maiie's  of  the  Isle,  "  that  the  Institute  over  which  you  now 
preside,  will  not  be  excelled  by  any  in  the  Order."  This  hope  was 
fully  realized.  Yet  the  cautious  prudence  of  the  kind  Prelate  was 
sometimes  an  impediment ;  his  surveillance  extended  to  the  for- 
tunes, families,  and  connections  of  all  who  desired  f  o  enter.  *'  No 
one  likes  to  propose  here,  now,"  writes  the  Superioress,  "  there  is 
so  much  scrutiny  into  family  concerns,  and  so  much  about  money, 
though  we  find  that  a  little  suffices  for  us,  and  we  have  a  good 
deal  to  spare."  The  Foundress,  though  well  pleased  that  Bishops 
should  be  particular  in  these  respects,  thought  Monseigneur  of 
Cork  a  little  too  much  so.  When  she  learned  that  the  Bishop  of 
Meath,  who  had  a  similar  tendency,  hesitated  in  consenting  to  the 
profession  of  a  novice  in  Tullamore,  because  her  family  refused 
to  pay  more  than  half  the  promised  portion,  she  wrote  :  "  I  read 
such  sentences  with  satisfaction  ;  they  prove  a  fatherly  guidance, 
and  are  a  shield  from  censure.  I  like  this  (episcopal  surveillance) 
when  not  carried  quite  so  far  as Cwk." 

While  at  St.  Marie's,  Mother  McA  '  y  had  a  railing  placed  be- 
fore the  choir-windows,  which  fronted  on  the  street.  One  of  her 
workmen  was  incorrigibly  lazy,  and  though  he  might  work  on  till 
eight  in  the  evening,  he  invariably  commenced  to  lean  on  his  spade 


! 


830 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


S?' 


t 


at  fire.  When  called  to  an  accoant,  he  replied  that  he  "  could 
not  work  a  stroke  for  the  king's  dominions."  Farther  pressed,  he 
declared  that  "  the  ladies  within  regularly  began  to  jaw  and  scold 
at  that  honr  every  evening ;  sometimes  one  would  get  it  all  to 
herself,  and  then  the  others  took  the  words  out  of  her  month,  and 
he  was  so  distracted  that  he  couldn't  go  on."  He  added,  that 
in  all  the  ladies  he  ever  worked  for,  he  never  heard  "  the  likes  o' 
that."  The  Foundress  related  this  at  recreation,*  and  the  Sisters 
could  not  but  smile  at  the  compliment  it  implied  with  reference  to 
the  sweet  tones  in  which  they  clianted  the  Office. 

*  It  was  amazing  to  see  how  the  Foundress  adapted  herself  to  the.  peculiari- 
Ues  of  those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact.  Perliaps  there  is  no  country  in 
the  world,  of  equal  extent,  tiiat  has  as  many  local  peculiarities  as  Ireland  ;  bat 
Mother  MoAuley  was  perfectly  at  home  everywhere.  She  could  smile  at  the 
jests  of  the  Corlc  people,  and  congratulate  them  on  their  constitutional  cheer* 
fulness,  whicli  rendered  it  so  easy  for  them  to  "  serve  the  Lord  with  joy  and 
gladness  ;"  she  could  discuss  obsolete  escutcheons  with  the  Galway  aristocracy, 
and  then  gently  suggest  that  it  is  a  small  thing  to  be  raised  above  others  by 
rank,  if  we  do  not  dI«o  excel  them  in  virtue;, with  the  Tipperary  people  she 
could  be  flery,  wit^  Northerns  she  could  be  demure ;  she  could  be  phleg- 
matio  with  the  Ge  lively  with  the  French,  *'  calculating"  with  the  Yan- 

kees.   Burt  how  g.  -^t  her  mortification  have  been  when  she  was  thus  able 

to  aooommodate  herself  to  every  one,  to  become  all  to  all  that  she  might  gKuall 
to  Christ  1  , . 


■i'j'j.t 


lat  he  "  coald 
lier  pressed,  he 
I  jaw  and  scold 
[  get  it  all  to 
iier  mouth,  and 
le  added,  that 
i  "  the  likes  o' 
and  the  Sisters 
ith  reference  to 


elf  to  the  peculiari- 
re  U  no  country  in 
;ie»  88  Ireland  ;  but 

could  smile  at  the 
onBtitutional  cheer- 
s  Lord  with  joy  and 

Galway  aristocracy, 
led  above  others  by 
[ipperary  people  she 

she  could  be  phleg- 
ting"  with  tho  Yan- 
en  she  was  thus  abU 
jat she  might  gKUsll 


^-.j'^'i* 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Sister  M.  de  Chaiital. — Deaths. — A  broken  arm.—"  A  boy  that  will  not  bo 
good." — The  Chaplaincy  difficulties. — Letters.  —  Dean  Mcyler.— "Christ's 
BleuBcd  Cross." — The  Limerick  Foundation. — Death  of  Sister  M.  Teresa  Pot- 
ter.— Letter  of  condolence. 

AT  the  Profession  of  a  Sister  in  Cork,  Bisliop  Murphy  sug- 
gested the  expediency  of  declaring  in  the  formula  of  the  vows, 
the  special  objects  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  as  distinct  from  other 
orders  ;  and,  after  some  discussion,  it  was  agreed  to  insert  the 
clause,  "  and  the  service  of  the  poor,  sick,  and  ignorant,"  which 
some  considered  a  fourth  vow,  and  which  others  understood  to  be 
included  in  tl     vow  of  obedience. 

On  the  tw  onty-sixth  of  October,  a  letter  announcing  the  serious 
illness  of  Sister  M.  de  Chantal,  hurried  Reverend  Mother  from 
Cork,  but  the  saintly  invalid  expired  before  her  Mother  reached 
Dublin. 

This  edifying  Religious  was  the  widow  of  the  late  Dr.  McCann, 
and  had  come  to  St.  Mary's,  in  her  weeds,  in  1833.  Charity  to 
the  poor  was  the  most  conspicuous  among  her  virtues.  Whatever 
she  gave  was  enhanced  by  her  manner  of  giving  it,  and  with  cor- 
poral relief  she  never  failed  to  bestow  spiritual  alms  also.  Some- 
times her  charities  were  bestowed  too  indiscriminately,  for  her 
maxim  was  : 

"  It  is  better  to  relieve  a  hundred  impostors,  if  there  be  any 
such,  than  to  suffer  one  really  distressed  person  to  be  sent  away 
empty  ;"  and  she  entirely  agreed  with  that  amiable  French  prin- 
cess, who  said,  '  We  ought  to  assist  the  good,  to  keep  them  good; 
and  the  bad,  to  make  them  good.'  " 

Giving  an  account  of  this  desith,  the  Foundress  writes  ; 

"  Exactly  the  same  fever  which  was  sent  by  God  to  take  ou 
pious,  valued  Bishop,  Dr.  Nolan,  came,  I  trust,  from  the  Divine 


wa 


fiammm 


332 


LIFE  OP  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


t 


I 


hand  for  onr  dear,  innocent  Sister,  M.  de  Chantal.  She  had  quite 
a  stintly  end,  continually  repeating  aloud,  '  My  God  !  I  love  Thee; 
forgive  me  and  take  me  to  Thyself.'  The  physicianu  were  aston- 
ished." 

Indeed,  God  continued  ever  and  anon  to  ask  the  Foundress  for 
the  most  precious  of  her  children  "  to  deck  His  paradise  ;"  and 
He  found  her  ever  ready  to  yield  them,  for  the  dearer  they  were 
to  her,  the  more  joyfully  did  she  give  them  back  to  Him.  The 
amiable  and  gifted  sister,  Mechtildis  GafiFney,  whose  uncle*  had 
brought  her  from  France  to  present  her  to  the  Order  of  Mercy » 
had  not  time  to  yield  much  service  on  earth  when  she  was  sum- 
moned from  this  passing  life.  To  the  last  she  desired  to  assist  the 
poor;  and  when  too  weak  to  do  anvUiing  else,  sought  to  share  the 
writing  business  of  the  House  of  M  cy,  which  she  did  till  the  pen 
dropped  from  her  slender  white  fingoFs,  soon  after  which  she  went 
to  receive  the  reward  of  her  devoteduess.  Mother  McAuley's 
virtues,  especially  her  spirit  of  labor  and  her  devotion  to  the  poor, 
were  quite  contagious  ;  and  no  true  child  of  hers  is  without  a  large 
share  in  these  virtues. 

Sister  M.  Agnes  Marmion  quickly  followed  Sister  Mechtildis. 
Her  exquisitely  cultivated  voice  and  i.eil-trained  fingers  were 
long  missed  ia  the  music  choir  ;  but  the  memory  of  her  virtues 
lived  after  her  oEBce  there  had  been  well  filled. 

In  November,  1837,  Mother  McAuley  met  with  an  accident,  to 
which  she  alludes  in  a  letter  dated  December  6th  : 

"I  went  to  Kingstown  to  condole  with  the  Sisters  on  the  death 
of  their  dear  holy  companion.  Sister  M.  de  Chantal.  Going  down 
to  Matins,  I  missed  the  first  step  of  the  stairs,  fell  forwards,  and, 
in  endeavoring  to  save  my  head  from  thd  window,  broke  my  left 
arm  across  the  wrist,  and  injured  the  sinews  in  the  back  of  my 
hand  so  much,  that  I  am  not  likely  to  have  the  use  of  it  for  some 
months  to  come,  if  ever."  She  was  obliged  to  remain  some  days 
without  undressing,  the  inflammation  being  so  great  that  leeches 
had  to  be  constantly  applied.  But  she  makes  little  or  nothing  ot 
the  paiu  and  inconvenience  of  a  broken  arm  bound  up  in  boards. 


•Very  Rov.  Deuii  Giiffiiey,  whom  wo  liavo  so  nfton  quoted.     Hor  brotliors, 
Kbv.  Me»sr».  Gutfiiey,  S.  J.,  w«ru  iil>'o  vury  frieii>lly  to  thu  Order  of  Moroy. 


miiiip.^':. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERIKE  MCAULEY. 


833 


She  bad  quite 
[  1  I  love  Thee; 
anj  were  aston- 

e  Foundress  for 
[Paradise ;"  and 
earer  they  were 
to  Him.     The 
lose  uncle*  had 
)rder  of  Mercji 
;n  she  was  sum- 
red  to  assist  the 
ight  to  share  the 
3  did  till  the  pen 
•  which  she  went 
ther  McAuley'8 
otion  to  the  poor, 
I  without  a  large 

ister  Mechtildis. 
ed  fingers  were 
y  of  her  virtues 

1  an  accident,  to 

ters  on  the  death 
il.  Going  down 
[u  forwards,  and, 
|w,  broke  my  left 
the  back  of  my 
[se  of  it  for  some 
>main  some  days 
;rcat  that  leeches 
;tlc  or  nothing  ot 
ind  up  in  boards. 


Itcd.     Hor  brotliors, 
)i  der  of  Mcroy. 


When  the  first  symptoms  of  improvement  appeared,  she  wrote  to 
the  Superioress  of  St.  Leo's,  thus  : 

"I  have  great  hopes  of  getting  my  old  companion  on  duty 
again  ;  and  I  am  happy  to  tell  you,  from  experience,  that  a  broken 
arm  is  by  no  means  so  distressing  a  matter  as  I  always  supposed  it. 
However,  take  great  care  of  your  bones,  if  you  go  through  the  new 
convent  before  the  stairs  are  put  up  ;  for  though  not  at  all  pro- 
portioned to  the  lamentations  we  hear  on  such  occasions,  it  gives 
a  general  shock  to  the  whole  system  that  is  not  easily  re- 
covered." 

Mother  JlcAuley's  nephews  having  left  college,  James  and 
Robert  entered  as  law  students,  besides  which,  the  latter  wrote  for 
some  periodicals,  and  had  serious  thoughts  of  adopting  literature 
as  a  profession.  They  soon  determined  to  remove  to  London,  in 
which  determination  she  would  not  oppose  them,  though  she  was 
anxious  to  have  them  as  much  as  possible  under  her  own  eye.  Her 
youngest  nephew,  William,  was  a  source  of  much  uneasiness  to 
her.  He  would  not  embrace  any  profession,  and,  finally,  took  it  io 
his  head  to  go  to  sea,  a  seafaring  life  being  about  the  last  thing 
sue  would  select  for  him  ;  but  no  coaxing  or  remonstrance  could 
keep  him  in  the  Queen's  dominions.  "  William,"  she  pathetically 
writes,  "  would  not  be  good.  He  has  gone  on  a  voyage  to  Demar 
rara,  perhaps,  that  may  reduce  his  obstinacy.  James  procured  the 
vessel,  and  settled  with  the  captain  in  a  manner  I  could  not  expect ; 
he  seems  quite  out  of  his  idleness  and  folly."  She  never  saw  Wil- 
liam again,  nor  could  she  learn  whether  he  wac  living  or  dead.  He 
came  home,  when  "absence  had  reduced  his  obstinacy;"  like  the 
Prodigal,  he  rame  to  crave  her  blessing  and  her  forgirencss,  for  ho 
dearly  loved  her,  and  deeply  regretted  the  tears  his  levity  and  wil- 
fulness had  cost  her.  Now  he  was  determined  to  repair  all — never 
again  would  she  Have  reason  to  find  fault  with  him.  Poor  boy  f 
the  mild  blue  eyes  that  had  so  lovingly  watched  over  his  Yvnyward 
youth  were  ci  ised,  and  the  gentle  voice  that  so  often  sought  to  win 
him  to  his  duty  was  hushed  forever — ere  he  reached  his  native 
city,  and  his  brothers  had  gone  before  his  aunt.  It  was  too  much 
for  his  afifectionate  heart.  The  next  ship  that  steered  out  of  Dub- 
lin harbor  had  him  for  a  passenger.     He  bade  an  eternal  adieu  to 


834 


LIFE  OF  OATHEKINE  MCAULET. 


Ireland,  and   has   never  since  been  heard  of  by  his  friends    ia. 
Dublin.* 

The  chaplaincy  difficulties,  which  reached  their  climax  this  yeaf 
(1838),  were  a  source  of  intense  solicitude  to  the  Foundress.  From 
1828,  the  friends  of  the  institute  who  resided  near,  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  attend  Mass  in  the  Convent  Chapel.  These  often  gave 
small  donations,  which,  with  the  full  approbation  of  Dr.  Blake, 
then  Pastor  of  St.  Andrew's,  were  added  to  the  tunds  of  the  Ser- 
vants' Asylum,  or  House  of  Mercy.  In  1838,  Very  Rev.  Dean 
Meyler,  then  vicar,  withdrew  the  chaplain,  and  the  whole  commu- 
nity were  daily  obliged  to  go  out  to  Mass.  Rev.  Mother  provided 
covered  cars  to  convey  the  dtlicate  sisters  ;  but  she  herself  walked. 
Indeed,  she  even  managed  to  dress  without  assistance,  those  dark 
winter  mornings,  though  her  broken  arm  was  still  in  a  sling.  She 
makes  as  light  as  possible  of  all  this. 

"  We  go  to  Westland  Row,"  she  writes.  "  I  carry  my  childf 
in  its  cradle.  Twelve  couple  start  as  gayly  as  we  did  when 
traveling  to  Clarendon-street  in  our  first  happy  days.  We  remain 
for  three  Masses,  and  are  home  at  nine.  I  wrote  to  Dr.  Blake, 
stating  our  grievances,  and  will  act  according  to  his  advice.  Yoa 
know  how  difficult  it  is  to  get  the  poor  women  and  children  oat 
and  home  again  on  days  of  obligation,  and  their  confessions  are, 
of  course,  neglected.  The  Archbishop  does  not  interfere.  He 
permitted  Dr.  Blake,  when  Vicar,  to  give  ns  a  Chaplain  and  two 
Masses  ;  now  he  allows  another  in  the  same  authority  to  act  as 
he  pleases.  All  is  fair  and  right,  and  will  end  well  if  Qod  is  not 
offended." 

If  Mother  McAuley  did  not  state  her  troubles  as  fully  as  she 
might,  others  did,  and  several  letters  of  sympathy  and  condolence 
flowing  in  upon  her,  she  gave  the  following  reply  to  one  of  them  : 

"  If  I  have  inspired  the  melancholy  view  you  have  taken  of  oar 
Bituation,  I  assure  you  I  did  not  intend  to  do  so.  We  have  now, 
indeed,  more  than  an  ordinary  portion  of  the  Cross,  but  is  it  not 
the  "  Cross  of  Christ"  which  we  so  often  pray  may  be  constantly 

*  Probably  lie  died  boou  after  )iU  second  voyage,  as  lie  inherited  oonsumpUon 
from  \m  mother, 
t  lier  broken  arm.  ,  ,.  ,  _        "  .,        i 


Mipveiv 


LIFE  OF  CATHKBIKE  MCAULBT. 


888 


lis  friendfl   ift 

limax  this  yea* 
undress.  From 
lad  been  accus- 
hese  often  gave 
of  Dr.  Blake, 
unds  of  the  Ser- 
ery  Rev.  Dean 
le  whole  commu- 
Mother  provided 
B  herself  walked. 
;ancc,  those  dark 
in  a  sling.    She 

carry  my  childf 
i  we    did   when 
lays.    We  remain 
ote  to  Dr.  Blake, 
his  advice.    You 
and  children  out 
confessions  are, 
lot  interfere.    He 
Ihaplaiu  and  two 
ithority  to  act  as 
rell  if  God  is  not 

|es  as  fully  as  she 
»y  and  condolence 
to  one  of  them  : 
lave  taken  of  our 
We  have  now, 
Jross,  but  is  it  not 
[may  be  constantly 

Inlieritod  oon»uinpUoa 


about  us  ?*  It  has  not  any  of  the  marks  of  an  angry  cross. 
There  is  no  disunion,  no  gloomy  depression  of  spirits,  no  departure 
from  charity  resulting  from  it.  The  difficulties  lessen  every  day  ; 
we  get  onr  poor  inmates  out  to  confession  by  six  at  a  time,  with 
Eliza  to  bring  them  safe  home.  We  get  an  occasional  charitable 
Mass.  I  am  sure  Dr.  Meyler  would  wish  the  matter  settled  ac- 
cording to  his  own  plan.  We  should  then  have  at  least  three 
priests,  and  never  know  whom  to  call  on  as  friend  or  Chaplain,f 
and  for  this  we  must  pay  fifty  pounds  a  year.  When  I  have  the 
happiness  of  seeing  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  I  will  tell  him,  and  him  only, 
another  strong  reason  why  the  proposed  connexion  should,  if  pos- 
sible, be  avoided.  I  am  not  unhappy,  thank  Qod,  nor  do  I  see 
any  dleedification  likely  to  result  from  the  matter.  Some  think 
that,  after  having  had  Father  Burke  for  eight  years,  we  are  not 
now  easily  pleased  ;  and  most  of  those  who  know  the  cause  why 
we  go  out,  seem  to  think  we  ought  to  have  a  distinct  Chaplain,  and 
only  say  that  Dr.  Meyler  is  a  little  positive.  This  is  the  extent  of 
it  at  present.  It  is  humiliatiHg,  no  doubt,  a  smart  attack  on  self- 
importance,  and  if  this  part  of  it  is  well  managed,  it  must  turn  to 
good  account.  We  continue  to  go  to  WesUand  Row  every  morn- 
ing, which  gives  us  a  good  appetite  for  our  breakfast 

"  We  have  a  nice  little  cross  in  Kingstown.  Law  proceedings 
commenced  for  the  school  buildings.  I  suppose  we  must  sell  the 
convent.  You  have  now  the  double  cross,  the  cross  in  the  diocese 
and  the  cross  oui  of  it.  All  is  consoling  and  animating,  thanks 
be  to  God.  The  contributions  go  on  well,  great  relief  afforded, 
the  extem|  dinner  increased,  and  the  house  crowded.  Twenty 
went  to  situations  this  week,  twenty  more  came  in.    The  dear 

*  May  the  ('roB8  of  ChrUt  be  always  about  us  1"  is  a  ootninon  acpiration 
among  the  poor  in  Ireland,  from  whom  tlio  Foundress  learned  it. 

X  The  ChaplRln  at  St.  Mary's  was  confessor  to  the  servants  and  orphans,  and 
it  might  not  be  well  to  give  tliem  three  dlroocom  instead  of  one  ;  all  could  not 
be  expected  to  tnke  the  vame  intvrcRt.  Tlie  fifty  pounds  a  year  was  not  the 
fiifflculty,  for  Mr.  Delnny,  of  Castle  Diirrow,  offered  to  pay  that,  tliongh  Bev. 
Mr.  Burke  never  accepted  more  tlinn  forty  pounds  a  ycnr  from  tlie  Institute. 

t  Some  poor  persons  dined  daily  at  the  House  of  Mercy  ;  others,  who  worked 
out,  but  could  not  pny  for  decent  lodgings,  slept  there  ;  while  about  eighty  lived 
there  entirely. 


836 


LIFE  OP  OATHKEINK  MOAULET. 


chapel  is  now  a  choir,  the  choir  a  parlor,  and  the  grate  boarded 
np." 

Dr.  Fitzgerald  came  to  Dablin  to  use  his  influence  in  arranging 
this  business,  bat  he  was  quite  unsuccessful.  "  He  acted  like  a 
true  friend,"  wrote  the  Foundress  ;  "  aud  though  in  public  and 
private  he  exclaimed  agai*".  what  he  thought  unjust  and  unkind, 
yet  he  reasoned  with  me  so  as  to  produce  calm  and  quiet  of  mind." 
Tery  Rev.  Jas.  Maher  came  with  similar  intentions,  and  during  his 
stay  officiated  daily  in  the  Sisters'  chapel.  He  had  arranged  to 
celebrate  Mass  at  St.  Mary's  on  the  9tb  January,  1838,  but  was 
suddenly  called  home.  The  Foundress  addressed  him  the  following 
pleasant  letter  the  same  day  : 

"  Mr  DEAR  Fathek  Maher  : 

"  I  am  very  sorry  you  did  not  complete  the  full  week's  attend- 
ance, which,  according  to  the  statutes  now  most  rigorously  obserred 
in  the  archdiocese,  would  have  entitled  you  to  a  pound  or  a 
guinea,  whichever  you  preferred.  I  really  cannot  say,  without 
making  inquiry,  whether  a  broken  week  is  payable  or  not.  You 
will  excuse  me  for  taking  this  little  advantage,  for  yon  know 
although  I  should  be  simple  as  a  dove,  I  must  also  be  wise  as  a 
serpent ;  and  since  there  is  little  good  to  be  accomplished  or  evil 
to  bo  avoided  without  the  aid  of  money,  we  must  look  after  it  in 
small  matters  as  well  as  in  great. 

"  I  have  now  to  deplore  the  loss  of  a  superfine  veal  cutlet, 
specially  provided  for  this  morning.  A  dear,  nice  little  tea-kettle 
W118  ready  to  supply  boiling  water  to  the  second  or  third  cup,  as 
might  be  required, — and  my  poor,  infirm  hand  employed  far  be- 
yond its  strength  in  making  the  fire  burn  brilliantly,  giving  a  sharp 
edge  to  the  knife  to  set  off  the  cutlet,  roasting  a  plate,  etc.,  etc. 

"  Most  sincerely  thanking  for  past  services,  and  begging  a  con- 
tinuance of  the  same, 

r,  "  I  remain,  dear  sir, 

'  ■'?  "  Your  ever  grateful 

"  Mary  0.  McAulet. 

*'  P.  S. — Don't  forfeit  all  chance  of  the  pound ;  perhaps  yoa  con 
make  up  the  week  without  violating  the  law." 


*.:-di,iiMmi.  - 


LIFE  OP  CATHEBINE  MC/TTLEY. 


887 


.  grate  boarded 

ice  in  arranging 
He  acted  like  a 
h  in  public  and 
ijust  and  unkind, 
idqttietofmind." 
IB,  and  during  bis 
had  arranged  to 
ry,  1838,  but  was 
him  the  following 


rail  week's  attend- 
igorously  observed 
to  a  pound  or  a 
mnot  say,  without 
able  or  not.    You 
ige,  for  you  know 
t  also  be  wise  as  a 
ccomplished  or  evil 
ist  look  after  it  in 

iperfine  veal  cutlet, 
nice  little  tea-kettle 

|nd  or  third  cup,  as 
id  employed  far  b©- 
intly,  giving  a  sharp 
[aplate,  etc.,  etc. 
and  begging  a  con- 


Icful 

Iarv  C.  McAolkt. 

id;  perhaps  you  can 


About  the  same  time,  she  wrote  to  the  Superioress  at  St  Leo's: 

"  The  kiad  interest  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Maher  manifested  was  most 
consoling,  because  genuine  ;  indeed,  I  could  speak  to  him  with  all 
the  confidence  of  ^  well-tried  frieud,  and  such  does  not  often  fall  to 
my  lot.  He  promised  to  do  Something  about  the  sermon.  Coax 
him  with  all  possible  earnestness.  This  is  a  season  of  particular 
pity  ;  and  if  our  means  stop,  we  must  stop  too.  Oh  I  how  you 
should  bless  Qod  for  having  made  provision  for  the  poor  about 
you — not  to  be  depending  on  daily  exertions,  so  difficult  to 
keep  up." 

On  the  23d  of  the  same  montb,  she  again  writes  to  Father 
Maher,  then  a  very  popular  preacher  ; 

"  Yon  created  some  little  hope  in  my  mind  relative  to  the  ser- 
mon for  our  poor,  which  is  appointed  for  February  18th.  Will 
you  have  pity  on  us  now,  and  we  will  feel  particularly  grateful,  and 
pray  most  fervently  for  you  ?  I  shall  anxiously  look  for  a  favor- 
able reply  ;  perhaps  we  za&j  not  be  disappoiuted." 

y-  nwhue,  Dr.  Meyler  still  refusing  a  chaplain  to  the  Institute, 
and  tne  Sisters  daily  seen  going  in  procession  to  a  church  almost 
a  mile  off,  it  began  to  be  whispered  that  there  was  some  misunder- 
standing between  the  Community  and  the  clergy,  which,  whatever 
party  was  in  fault,  was  equally  disedifying.  Mother  McAnley 
would  make  almost  any  concession  rather  than  have  the  lightest 
difference  with  a  priest,  but  Dr.  Meyl'"'  was  inflexible.  Whatever 
happened  towards  the  middle  of  1838,  lo  aggravate  her  difllculties, 
never  passed  her  lips  ;  but  it  was  no  ordinary  combination  of  afflic- 
tions that  wrung  from  the  silent,  reserved  Catherine  McAuley  the 
only  words  in  her  whole  correspondence  that  show  any  thing  like 
depression — "Pray  fervently  for  me,  that  God  may  remove  all 
bitterness  far  from  me.  I  can  hardly  think  of  what  has  been  done 
to  me  without  resentment.  May  Qod  forgive  me,  and  make  me 
truly  humble,  before  He  calls  me  into  His  presence."  Those  who 
lived  with  her  always  spoke  of  her  as  one  whom  nothing  could 
ruffle,  but,  on  this  occasion,  her  unalterably  calm  exterior  was  not 
unlike  snow  on  a  volcr.no. 

As  Dean  Meyler  entered  her  room,  on  the  day  of  her  departure 
from  this  world,  she  turned  her  dying  gaze  on  him  with  a  smile  of 

15 


ipp 


ff 


mm 


388 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


ineffable  swectnes?.  Was  she  thinking  that  she  owed  roach  of  her 
coming  glory  to  the  patience  with  which  she  had  borne  the  years 
of  suffering  he  occasioned  her  ?  Her  hamility  would  not  permit 
this.  Besides,  the  light  of  another  world  was  already  reflected  on 
her  countenance,  and  she  was  beginning  to  realize  "  how  sweet  it 
is"  for  one  like  her  "  to  die."  Likely,  ho  did  not  think  for  a  mo- 
ment that  the  dying  servant  of  God  owed  the  bitterest  pangs  of  a 
strangely-chequered  life  to  him.  He  was  but  an  instrument  in  the 
omnipotent  hand  of  Him  "  who  doeth  all  things  well,"  to  increase 
her  glory  by  adding,  unconsciously,  perhaps,  to  her  sufferings.  He 
began  to  appreciate  her  just  as  she  was  about  to  be  translated  to 
a  happier  home,  but  she  ever  rerered  and  esteemed  him. 

In  the  chaplain  affair.  Dr.  Meylcr  certainly  acted  harshly  ;  but 
his  error  was  of  the  head  rather  than  the  heart,  for  we  believe  he 
would  not  wilfully  do  what  he  conceived  to  be  unjust.  After  about 
three  years,  he  yielded  a  small  portion  of  his  rights — even  kings 
are  obliged  to  make  concessions  sometimes — he  gave  a  distinct  chap- 
lain, but  ordered  the  public  chapel  at  St.  Mary's  to  remain  closed. 

In  the  spring  of  1838,  Very  Rev.  James  Maher  having  an- 
nounced to  her  the  death  of  a  Sister  at  St.  Leo's,  she  wrote  as 
follows : 

"  I  have  received  your  kind  letter,  dear  Father,  and  am  exceed- 
ingly concerned  at  the  melancholy  communication.  Thank  Qod> 
the  event  has  been  attended  with  such  consoling  circumstances.  It 
must  be  a  severe  trial  to  her  relations  ;  to  my  dear  Sisters,  I 
know,  it  is  a  real  portion  of  the  cross,  and  as  such  I  trust  they 
will  embrace  it  as  the  holy  will  of  God,  with  humble  resignation. 
I  have  great  happiness  in  knowing  that  they  will  receive  from  you 
0,11  the  solid  counsel  and  animating  comfort  which  affectionate 
fatherly  feelings  can  dictate.  The  most  sensible  participation  of 
the  trial  has  already  spread  through  St.  Mary's  and  all  unite  in 
earnest  prayer  for  our  poor  Sister."  ,  -    i,  . 

At  the  same  time  she  wrote  to  the  Superioresf  : 

"  How  deeply,  how  sincerely  I  participate  in  this  second  trial 
with  'vhich  God  has  socn  fit  to  afflict  you  1  Best  assured.  He  will 
send  yon  some  distinguished  consolation  soon.  The  reward  always 
comes  after  a  well-received  Cross." 


LIFK  OF  CATHERINE  MCA  u  LET. 


839 


ycd  much  of  her 
borne  the  years 
ould  not  permit 
eady  reflected  on 
ze  "  how  sweet  it 
\.  think  for  a  mo- 
tcrest  pangs  of  a 
instrument  in  the 
well,"  to  increase 
er  sufferings.    He 

0  be  translated  to 
ed  him. 

cted  harshly ;  but 
,  for  we  believe  he 
njust.  After  about 
rights— even  kings 
ave  a  distinct  chap- 
;  to  remain  closed. 
Maher  having  an- 
Leo's,  she  wrote  as 

ler,  and  am  excced- 
ition.    Thank  God» 

1  circumstances.  It 
my  dear  Sisters,  I 
8  such  I  trust  they 
humble  resignation, 
rill  receive  from  you 

which  affectionate 
ible  participation  of 
y'sand  all  unite  ux 

esp : 

in  this  second  trial 
,e8t  assured,  He  will 
The  reward  always 


In  1831,  Dr.  Ryan,  Bishop  of  Limerick,  applied  for  a  few  Sis- 
ters; but  the  Foundress  intimated  that,  for  the  present,  she  really 
had  none  to  spare.  Ho  wrote  again,  stating  that  two  or  three 
would  BuflSce  ;  "  a  beginning  once  made,"  he  continued,  "  several 
ladies  of  the  city  would  join  the  Institute."  He  afterwards  sent 
his  Vicar  to  negotiate  the  business,  and  it  was  arranged  that  a 
foundation  should  set  out  for  Limerick,  in  autumn,  1838. 

This  year  Mother  McAuley  received  a  donation  of  a  hundred 
pounds  from  an  old  cook,  who  had  worked  hard  many  a  year  to 
earn  it.  It  was  given  to  furnish  a  dormitory  for  poor  servants, 
and  the  charitable  donor  did  not  even  send  her  name  with  it,  un- 
willing that  her  left  hand  should  know  what  her  right  hand  did. 
The  Foundress  was  greatly  touched  with  the  genuine  charity  of 
this  poor  woman,  whose  name,  unknown  on  earth,  will  be  repeated 
with  glory  on  the  judgment-day. 

Ou  the  Feast  of  the  Nativity  of  Our  Lady,  1838,  Reverend 
Mother,  with  four  Sisters,  set  out  for  Limerick,  '■  'nch  they  reached 
on  the  Feast  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy,  after  ma',  g  a  visit  to  Cork 
and  another  to  Charleville.  The  following  letter  from  the  "  City 
of  the  Violated  Treaty,"  contains  scraps  of  all  sorts  : 

"  I  cannot  say  when  I  shall  be  able  to  leave  this  foundation, 
which,  with  much  to  excite  hope,  has  still  very  much  to  contend 
with.  It  is  quite  novel  to  find  those  who  have  the  smallest  means 
most  afraid  to  join  us  ;  in  this  they  are  encouraged  by  some  who 
say:  'If  this  Convent  breaks  up,  as  others  have,  you  would  be 
nuns  indeed,  but  what  house  would  receive  you  without  funds  ?' 
The  friends  of  those  who  have  property  excite  their  fears  by  say- 
ing that  they  might  be  obliged  to  go  where  they  did  not  like. 
Such  a  perplexing  conflict  as  we  have  every  dayl  I  cannot  go 
for  a  month  yet.  As  to  Sister  M.  Elizabeth,  we  never  sent  oat 
such  a  faint-hearted  soldier,  now  that  she  is  in  the  field.  She  will 
do  all  interior  and  exterior  work,  but  to  meet  on  business,  confer 
with  the  Bishop,  conclude  with  a  new  subject,  you  might  as  well 
send  the  child  that  opens  the  door  !  This  will  surprise  you,  yet 
she  is  greatly  liked,  and  when  the  first  alarms  aro  over,  and  a  few 
in  the  house,  all  will  go  on  well.  Sister  M.  Vincent  Hartnett  was 
professed  yesterday;  we  were  obliged  to  admit  several  persons. 


840 


LIFE  OF  CATHBBINE  MOATJLEY. 


The  sermon  was  very  fine,  and  the  singing  good  ;  my  most  angelio 
Sister  M.  Aloysia  presiding  at  the  organ.  I  never  kne^v  her  per- 
fectly till  now.  She  is  unalterably  sweet  and  placid,  and  unceas- 
ing in  her  efiforts  to  promote  the  objects  of  the  lustitute.  The 
sweetest  we  ever  had  could,  perhaps,  be  a  little  ruffled,  especially 
on  occasions  like  this  ;  but  she  is  never  moved  in  look  or  manner. 
She  is  everything  at  all  times — how  did  I  live  so  long  with  such  a 
person  and  not  know  her  ?  We  finished  our  Thirty  Days'  Pray- 
ers, and  are  now  going  to  say  the  whole  Psalter  f" ;  fifteen  days — 
this  is  our  last  hope. 

"  Do  not  say  a  word  of  any  fears  for  this  house.  Every  word 
takes  wing.  My  language  must  be  encouraging.  If  they  thought 
I  spoke  unfavorably,  I  should  get  nothing  done  these  three  months. 
We  have  never  yet  seen  the  Foundress* — this  is  gospel  perfection." 

Under  a  later  date  she  says  : 

"  The  poor  here  are  in  a  miserable  state,  and  the  whole  sur- 
rounding neighborhood  one  scene  of  wretchedness  and  sorrow. 
Postulants  will  not  do  well  till  attired  in  the  religious  dress  ;  the 
people  arc  very  sharp,  and  say  queer  things  ;  even  the  poor  do  not 
like  '  the  caps.'  Every  place  has  its  own  peculiar  ideas  and  feel- 
ings, which  must  be  yielded  to  when  possible.  A  Miss  Bridgman 
has  entered,  and  a  Miss  O'Farrell,  the  lattei'  of  almost  as  much 
mind  and  formed  character  as  our  darling  Mary  Teresa. 

"  Sister  E.  Potter  was  certoinly  designed  for  the  place.  Her 
ardent  zeal  for  Limerick  made  her  uneasy  elsewhere  ;  and  her  be* 
ing  on  the  spot,  with  good  connections  and  interest,  promoted  the 
object  very  much.  The  gentlemen  are  all  with  us  now  ;  fathers, 
brothers,  and  uncles  will  give  no  assent  to  any  other  house." 

Mother  McAuley  gives  the  following  account  of  her  new 
abode : 

"This  is  a  very  nice  old  Convent,  called  'St.  Peter's  Cell,'  en- 
closed by  the  walls  of  an  abbey,  a  beautiful  ruin.  Opposite  the 
cell  I  occupy,  is  a  beautiful  tomb  in  which  a  holy  Abbess  and  a 
Lay  Sister  are  deposited  ;  a  very  large  weeping  willow  overhangs 
the  grave.     It  looks  delightful,  and  excites  to  meditation  of  the 

*  MUb  Ueffernan,  who  settled  a  flue  property  by  deed,  for  the  endowment  of 
the  Convent. 


.ii|iiiillill^lpilWWPJK« 


LIFE  OF  CATHERmiB  MOAULBT. 


841 


ny  most  angeUo 
r  knew  ber  per- 
3\d,  and  nnceas- 
lustitute.    The 
uffled,  especially 
look  or  manner, 
ong  with  such  a 
irty  Pays'  Pray- 
;r :  fifteen  days— 

ise.    Every  word 

If  they  thought 

eae  three  months. 

rospel  perfection." 

id  the  whole  snr- 
nes3  and  sorrow, 
ligious  dress  ;  the 
en  the  poor  do  not 
liar  ideas  and  feel- 

A  Miss  Bridgmaa 

if  almost  as  much 

Teresa. 

ir  the  place.    Her 

rhere ;  and  her  be- 

ircst,  promoted  the 
us  now ;  fathers, 

»ther  house." 

iount  of  her  new 

It.  Peter's  Cell,'  en- 
kin.  Opposite  the 
Iholy  Abbess  and  ft 
Ig  willow  overhangs 
meditation  of  the 
I,  for  the  endowment  of 


most  consoling  'iiind.  We  have  a  very  nice  chapel  and  choir,  good 
garden,  and  extensive  school-rooms.  The  approach  is  very  bad, 
but  this  is  of  no  consequence  to  us,  as  we  should  often  have  to 
visit  the  neighborhood.  The  house  is  surrounded  by  trees  and  re- 
creation ground,  all  being  enclosed  within  fine  old  walls,  entirely 
lined  with  ivy.  It  is  capable  of  being  made  a  very  valuable  insti- 
tution, if  God  will  grant  his  blessing  to  our  exertions.  I  am  sure 
you  will  obtain  for  us  all  the  prayers  you  can.  Get  the  Sisters  to 
invite  their  Patron  Saints,  and  implore  St.  Teresa,  who  loved 
foundations,  to  intercede  for  poor  Limerick,  where  no  good  seed 
has  yet  taken  root." 

The  Limerick  House,  having  overcome  the  early  obstacles,  was 
blessed  with  immense  success.  Owing  to  the  generosity  of  the 
Bishop  and  clergy,  and  the  valuable  bequests  received,  the  Sisters 
arc  able  to  bestow  large  charities  on  the  poor.  The  poor-schools 
are,  we  believe,  the  largest  in  Ireland,  five  thousand  children  being 
the  daily  average  attendance.  A  splendid  asylum  was  erected  and 
endowed  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  orphans,  by  Peter  Arthur,  Esq. ; 
and  a  little  later,  a  Widows'  Asylum,  by  Very  Rev.  Father 
O'Meara.  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Ryan,  Very  Rev.  Dean  Coll,  and 
Very  Rev.  Dr.  Walsh,  endowed,  respectively,  three  other  charitable 
institutions,  superintended  by  the  Sisters,  The  Mercy  Hospital 
accommodates  five  hundred  patients,  all  of  the  poorest  class. 

"  They  have,  indeed,  a  sweet  community  in  Limerick,"  wrote  the 
Foundress,  in  1839.  "Every  thing  goes  on  well  there,  thank 
God."  To  the  Superioress,  S.  M.  Elizabeth  Moore,  who  soon  got 
over  her  timidity,  she  wrote,  on  hearing  of  some  successes  : 

"  How  heartily,  how  fervently  I  rejoice  in  every  circumstance 
that  contributes  to  your  spiritual  and  temporal  happiness.  All  that 
I  hear  of  the  dear  Limerick  Sisters  brings  joy  to  my  mind.  They 
are  pronounoed  the  good  seed,  and  thanks  be  to  God,  they  are 
placed  in  a  good  soil.  May  God  grant  you  lively  gratitude  and 
profound  humility  1  Then,  indeed,  you  will  be  a  child  of  Bene- 
diction I'' 

In  March,  1840,  Mother  McAuley  received  a  letter  from  Lim- 
erick, announcing  the  serious  illness  of  Sister  M.  Teresa  Potter,  to 
which  she  sent  the  following  reply  : 


842 


LIFE  OP  CATHKBINE  MCAULET. 


•'  God  will  support  you  in  this  great  affliction.  I  know  Ho  wilL 
His  holy  will  be  done.  If  he  call  her  away,  it  will  be  to  shield 
her  from  some  impending  evil,  or  to  exercise  your  patience,  or  to 
try  whether  you  love  Him  as  well  when  He  takes  as  when  He  gives. 
Some  grand  motive  must  actuate  all  His  visitatinns.  I  shall  be 
agitated  at  the  sight  of  your  next  letter.  May  God  bless  and 
preserve  you  all,  and  grant  you  all  cheerful  resignation  to  His  di- 
vine will." 

In  the  same  mouth,  she  lost  her  beloved  Sister  M.  Frances 
Marmion,  whose  last  moments  she  thus  describes  : 

"  At  half-past  five  this  morning,  we  were  saying  the  last  prayers 
for  our  dear  Sister  M.  Prances.  It  is  now  past  twelve,  and  she  is 
yet  alive,  but  has  not  spoken  since  six.  She  is  in  the  noviceship, 
where  we  had  Mass  celebrated  for  her  after  seven.  From  that 
time  till  now,  she  has  not  been  more  nneasy  than  she  often  was  in 
unquiet  sleep.  I  think  she  will  speak  again.  Do  you  remember 
how  our  dear  Sister  M.  Agnes  Marmion  spoke  long  after  we 
thought  she  never  would  ?  It  is  a  melancholy  consolation  to  look 
for  ;  yet  1  think  we  would  all  like  to  hear  her  gentle  voice  once  more. 
May  God  grant  ns  all  humble  resignation  to  His  adorable  will." 

Under  a  later  date,  she  adds  : 

"  I  have  just  taken  off  the  church-cloak  after  following  the  dear 
remains  of  our  beloved  and  edifying  Sister  M.  Frances  Marmion. 
She  did  not  speak  again  as  I  expected — expired  without  any 
struggle.    This  is  a  season  of  sorrow  with  us,  thank  God." 

The  same  day  came  a  letter,  announcing  the  death  of  Sister  M. 
Frances  Mahony,  in  Cork,  and  a  little  later,  one  from  the  Supe- 
rioress of  "  St.  Peter's  Cell,"  which  told  of  the  death  of  the  gifted 
Sister  M.  Teresa  Potter.  In  reply  to  the  latter,  the  Foundress 
wrote  : 

"  I  implore  God  to  comfort  you.  I  know  He  will.  This  has 
not  been  done  in  anger.  Some  joyful  circumstance  will  soon  prove 
that  He  is  watching  over  all  your  concerns,  which  are  His  own. 
But  without  the  cross  the  real  crown  cannot  come.  Some  great 
thing,  whicli  he  designs  to  accomplish,  would  be  too  much  without 
a  little  bitterness  in  the  cup.  Bless  and  love  the  fatherly  hand  that 
has  wounded  you.    He  will  soon  come,  both  hands  filled  with  fa- 


r. 


LIFK  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


848 


I  know  He  wilL 
(vill  be  to  shield 
ar  patience,  or  to 
is  when  He  gives, 
tions.  I  shall  be 
7  God  bless  and 
mtion  to  His  di- 

iister  M.  Frances 

ig  the  last  prayers 
twelve,  and  she  is 
in  the  noviceship, 
even.  From  that 
I  she  often  was  in 
Do  you  remember 
)ke  long  after  wo 
onsolation  to  look 
tie  voice  once  more. 
3  adorable  will." 

'  following  the  dear 
Frances  Mannion. 
pired  without,  any 
hank  God." 
death  of  Sister  M. 
ne  from  the  Supe- 
death  of  the  gifted 
;ter,  the  Foundress 

He  will.  This  has 
[ince  will  soon  prove 
which  are  His  own. 
coine.  Some  great 
te  too  much  without 
le  fatherly  hand  that 
hands  filled  with  fa- 


vors and  blessings.  My  heart  is  sqre,  not  on  my  own  account,  not 
for  the  sweet,  innocent  spirit  that  has  returned  to  her  heavenly 
Father's  bosom,  but  for  you  and  yours. 

"  Earnestly  and  humbly  praying  God  to  grant  you,  and  all  the 
dear  Sisters,  His  divine  consolations,  I  remain,  &c.,  &c." 

The  earthly  tenement  of  this  "  sweet,  innocent  spirit,"  was  borne 
to  the  Convent  Cemetery  by  six  priests,  the  Bishop  and  other 
clergy  walking  in  front  of  the  coffin,  the  Sisters  in  procession  be- 
hind, and  the  friends  of  the  deceased  heading  the  cortege. 
Thousands,  who  could  not  find  room  in  the  procession,  lined  the 
garden  and  cemetery  walls,  uniting  in  the  beautiful  prayers  the 
Church  recites  for  "  those  who  are  gone  before  us  with  the  sigu 
of  Faith."  On  hearing  the  particulars  of  this  funeral,  Afothcr 
McAuley  wrote  : 

"When  I  read  your  letter  in  the  .  ommunity-room,  several  ex- 
claimed :  '  0  that  is  not  death  I  Who  would  not  like  to  die  under 
such  circumstances?'  They  were  astonished  and  delighted.  It 
was,  indeed,  a  heavenly  ceremony,  more  so  than  any  reception  or 
profession.  It  was  like  a  grand  entrance  into  Paradise.  It  will 
even  be  a  powerful  attraction  to  many  to  put  themselves  in  the 
way  of  obtaining  such  a  blessed  departure  from  this  passing  world. 
When  our  dear  Sister  M.  Frances  departed.  Rev.  Mr.  Carroll,  a 
very  spiritual  priest,  said  to  us  :  'I  congratulate  you.  You  have 
or  soun  will  have,  another  friend  in  heaven — how  delightful  to  be 
forming  a  community  t/iere!  What  are  they  here  for  but  to 
prepare  for  heaven?  They  ought  to  go  as  soon  as  they  are  ready, 
and  make  room  for  poor  souls  that  are  in  the  midst  of  dangers. 
There  is  no  other  way  of  carrying  on  this  holy  traffic,  so  as  to 
meet  the  designs  of  God — it  is  His  own  divine  plan.'  This  priest 
is  quite  a  comfort  to  us.  Sorrow  clings  close  to  poor  Ba'TTot- 
street.  Since  I  commenced  this  letter,  Sister  M.  Aloysia  has 
burst  a  blood-vessel.  She  was  preparing  the  children  for  confi^ 
raation,  and  made  too  much  exertion.  Dr.  Carmichael  thinks  it  will 
not  be  serious." 

Most  people  are  quite  resigned  to  the  afflictions  of  their  neigh- 
bors. They  can  discern  the  wisdom  that  sends  or  permits  every 
calamity  that  does  not  touch  themselves  ;  and  in  many  instances 


i 


844 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


this  is  the  Bnm  total  of  their  resignation  to  the  dispensations  of 
ProTidence.  Not  bo  with  the  Foundress.  She  can  joyfully  bear 
her  own  heaviest  crosses,  but  when  her  children  are  afflicted,  she 
feels  anxious  and  agitated,  confessing  that  her  "  heart  is  sore"  for 
tiiem.  She  is  ever  ready  to  give  to  others  the  sympathy  she  never 
sought  for  self.  •« 


iispenBations  of 
an  joyfully  bear 
ire  afflicted,  she 
>art  is  sore"  for 
ipathy  she  ncTor 


''*:,/"''';i^-.4>.>,r-; 


'"""Tt^l--' 


'>^=- 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Sister  M.  Gerirudo  Jones. — She  shows  her  brightest  colors  in  dying. — Death  of 
Robert  McAiiloy. — The  English  Sisters. — National  pride. — "  Gcnildino." — 
Tlie  last  glimpse  of  Eriu. — VUit  to  Newry. — Departure  of  the  Foundreaa  for 
tlio  London  mission.  .  .     ,     , 

BEFORE  we  speak  of  the  spiritual  life  of  Sister  M.  Gertrude, 
which  presented  some  extraordinary  phases,  and  which  we 
will,  consequently,  describe  in  the  words  of  the  Foundre.S8,  we  will 
glance  at  her  early  history. 

Mary  Jones  was  born  in  Wales  in  1798,  among  people  who 
seemed  not  to  be  aware  that  there  was  any  religion  but  their  own 
in  the  world.  When  nearly  seven,  she  became  very  ill  with  whoop- 
ing-cough, and  the  doctors  despairing  of  her  recovery,  her  Irish  nurse 
told  Mrs.  Jones  that  she  knew  a  certain  cure  for  that  troublesome 
and  dangerous  disease.  The  mother  wanted  her  child  saved,  she  cared 
not  how,  and  the  nurse  carried  the  little  one  to  a  priest,  pr  bably 
an  emigre,  who  lived  in  retirement  at  some  distance,  and  entreated 
him  to  give  her  infant  patient  "  a  drink  out  of  the  chalice,"  which 
he  did.  Mary  recovered — was  transferred  from  the  nurse  to  the 
governess — but  the  manner  of  the  priest  a^'l  the  appearance  of 
the  chalice  never  left  her  remembrance  till  it  produced  the  fruit  of 
conversion.  Whether  she  read  or  prayed,  or  listened  to  sermons 
or  meditated;  the  venerable  priest,  chalice  in  hand,  was  always  be 
fore  her  mental  eye. 

As  she  grew  up,  she  made  inqnu'ies  respecting  the  use  of  a 
chalice,  but  those  to  whom  she  spoke  did  not  understand  her,  and 
the  sum  of  what  she  could  learn  from  her  minister  was,  that  it  was 
something  pertaining  to  the  Catholic  religion.  She  always  wanted 
to  find  out  more  about  the  chalice,  though  m  yet  she  had  not  the 
slightest  doubts  about  the  truth  of  her  owu  religion.     Yisiting 

*15 


ai'.'ijgi'jei 


346 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


friends  in  London,  they  happened,  when  showing  her  the  curiosities 
of  tliat  monster  city,  to  taiic  her  into  a  Catholic  ch:ipel.  There 
she  rccoj^nized  the  object  of  her  lifelong  inquiry,  and,  in  an  ecstacy 
of  delight,  begged  a  priest  whom  she  saw  in  the  churc.  to  satisfy 
her  curiosity.  He  did  so,  and,  though  much  gratified,  she  felt  no 
desire  of  changing  her  religion.  On  her  return  home,  however,  her 
mind  became  greatly  disturbed.  While  in  church  tl'i  wps  iu  tor- 
ture. Ilcr  friends  could  not  imagine  why  she  was  noi<  now  so  de- 
vout as  formerly,  and  wondered  what  there  could  be  outside  their 
own  religion  to  attract  her.  Months  rolled  by  ;  her  unhappiness 
increased  hourly  ;  and  she  felt  that  God  required  something  of 
her,  she  hardly  knew  what,  but  she  was  aware  no  peace  could 
come  while  she  resisted  Ills  inspirations.  After  a  long  and  ter- 
rible struggle,  she  returned  to  London,  and  was  soon  received  into 
the  Catholic  Church.  Ilearing  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  she  be- 
came strongly  attracted  to  join  their  Institute,  and  was  received  at 
St.  Mary's  during  Mother  McAuley's  absence  at  George's  Hill, 
her  English  director  ',?.ving  made  the  necessary  arrangements.  She 
was,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  received  and  professed,  and,  as 
may  be  readily  supposed,  had  an  extraordinary  devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  In  the  fulfilment  of  her  duties  she  was  a 
source  of  great  edification  to  all  ;  but  her  cold,  reticent  manners 
and  rigid  views  rendered  her  far  less  attractive  than  tlie  bright, 
warm-hearted  Sisters,  who  sympathized  in  her  afflictions,  which 
they  could  not  understand,  and  loved  the  reserved  Welsh  gentle- 
woman in  ppite  of  her  little  peculiarities.  Reverend  Mother,  who 
knew  her  best,  revered  her  as  a  saint,  thopgh  she  admitted  her 
case  to  be  altogether  extraordinary.  The  following  splendid  letter 
shows  that  this  gentle,  suflFering  creature  expired  like  the  dolphin, 
displaying  her  brightest  tints.  It  was  addressed  by  the  Foundress 
to  the  Superioress  of  St.  Leo's  : 

"  Our  poor  Sister  M.  Gertrude  is  no  longer  an  inhabitant  of  this 
transitory  world.  She  expired  on  Ascension  Day.  For  the  last 
year  she  was  chiofly  confined  to  bed  ;  fourteen  weeks  ago,  she 
was  removed  here  (Booterstown)  for  change  of  air,  and  chiefly 
that  she  might  have  the  comfort  of  being  present  at  Mass,  without 
having  many  stairs  to  descend.    No  symptoms  of  death  appeared 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


847 


lier  the  cnriositiea 
ic  cbipel.    There 
find,  iu  an  ecstacy 
clmrc.  to  satisfy 
itified,  she  felt  no 
lome,  however,  her 
ch  ble  WPS  iu  tor- 
as  noL  now  so  de- 
d  be  outside  their 
;  her  unhappiness 
lired  something  of 
ire  no  peace  could 
er  a  long  and  ter- 
1  soon  received  into 
1  of  Mercj,  she  be- 
and  was  received  at 
3  at  George's  Hill, 
arrangements.   She 
,d  professed,  and,  as 
iry  devotion  to  the 
r  daties  she  was  a 
lid,  reticent  manners 
ive  than  tlie  bright, 
cr  afflictions,  which 
served  Welsh  gentlc- 

crcnd  Mother,  who 
she  admitted  her 
owing  splendid  letter 

cd  like  the  dolphin, 
sed  by  the  Foundress 


rii 


ir 


an  inhabitant  of  thU 
Day.    For  the  last 
pteen  weeks  ago,  she 
of  air,  and  chiefly 
:scnt  at  Mass,  without 
ius  of  death  appeared 


till  Monday.  She  had  every  spiritual  consolation.  Father  O'Han- 
lon  came  out  here  three  times  to  scp  her.  Her  dear  remains  were 
this  morning  deposited  in  the  vault  of  St.  Teresa's,  with  those  of 
her  eleven  Sisters.  We  hope  to  have  them  all  home  before  an- 
other year.  (In  the  cemetery  she  was  having  prepared  at  St. 
Mary's.) 

"  Reviewing  all  the  past,  I  regard  poor  Sister  M.  Gertrude  as  a 
martyr  for  the  Faith.  Tte  violent  efiforts  she  made  to  embrace 
and  practise  it,  and  the  total  separation  from  all  to  whom  she  was 
ever  known,  gave  a  shock  to  the  whole  nervous  system,  which 
could  not  be  recovered.  Delighted  with  the  Catholic  Faith,  she 
fancied  that  all  who  observed  it  must  be  divine  ;  hence,  she  was 
often  disappointed.  Yet,  for  one  moment,  she  would  not  think  of 
returning,  lest  there  migiit  be  danger  of  losing  It.  On  Ascension 
Day,  Sister  M.  Cecilia  said  to  me :  '  Well,  Reverend  Mother,  though 
poor  Sister  was  sometimes  a  little  tiresome,  I  often  thought  she 
was  like  a  martyr.  She  seemed  to  be  offering  violence  to  feelings 
which  were  not  in  any  degree  overcome.  All  her  niiud  turned  to 
England,  and  English  manners.  We  could  not  converse  so  agree- 
ably, or  do  any  thing  as  well  as  they  could  In  Brldgenorth,  which, 
she  said,  possessed  every  attraction  under  heaven,  but  the  true 
Faith.'  .    . 

"  When  describing  the  amiable,  and,  as  she  would  say,  exalted 
dispositions  of  her  relations,  she  seemed  to  think  that  they  were  all 
lost  for  the  want  of  the  Catholic  Faith.  This  feeling  was  engraven 
on  her  soul  by  some  supernatural  means.  Her  case  was  an  extra- 
ordinary one  :  God  alone  can  appreciate  its  value.  She  may  be 
truly  said  to  have  taken  up  her  cross,  while  we,  in  general,  only 
carry  it  when  it  comes,  and  keep  it  away  as  long  as  we  can.  I 
am  certain  her  reward  will  be  great.  She  suffered  in  mind  and 
body,  for  nine  yiars,  from  no  visible  cause  but  a  rending  of  the 
heart  by  the  violent  sacrifice  of  all  the  predilections  of  thirty-seven 
years  I  A  vocation  to  the  religious  life  has  its  joys,  but  her  whole 
concern  was  the  preservation  of  her  Faith  Guarding  against  all 
that  might  put  it  in  danger,  she  would  nut  trust  her  own  perse- 
verance, unless  shielded  as  she  was. 

'*  Uor  countenance  was  sweetly  composed  iu  death  ]  her  tooth 


^mm 


348 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  HOAULET. 


perfectly  white,  not  the  slightest  swelling  in  her  feet,  whi<ili  are 
strong  signs  of  not  being  in  an  unhealthy  state  of  body.  She  ex- 
pressed a  great  desire  to  die  on  Ascension  Day.  Sister  Monica 
and  I  were  watching  her ;  we  had  said  the  last  prayers  two  or 
three  times.  At  eleven,  on  Wednesday  night,  we  concludta  she 
would  live  a  day  or  two  longer,  as  no  change  appeared.  The  in- 
stant the  clock  strack  twelve,  she  stretched  ont  her  arms,  and,  as 
if  it  were  an  immediate  call  on  her  to  go,  settled  her  head,  and, 
before  we  could  say  the  prayers,  she  was  gone  1" 

This  beautiful  letter  needs  no  comment. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  Reverend  Mother's  devotion  to  the 
sick  in  the  convent,  but  it  wonid  be  impossible  to  describe  it.  She 
took  such  pains  to  provide  remedies  for  their  most  trifling  com- 
plaints, that  they  used  to  conceal  their  illnesses  as  long  as  possible ; 
but  her  Mother's  eye  quickly  discovered  them.  Yet,  though  her 
own  physical  pain  sometimes  amounted  to  torture,  she  never  alludes 
to  it,  unless  in  reply  to  the  oft-repeated  queries  of  a  spiritual  child. 
"  Show  me  how  the  sick  arc  treated  in  any  convent,"  says  a  spiri- 
tual writer,  "  and  I  will  tell  you  whether  the  Spirit  of  God  reigns 
there."  And  certainly,  according  to  this  test,  the  Spirit  of  God 
reigned  in  the  community  the  first  Sister  of  Mercy  governed.  No 
one  equalled  her  in  laborious  zeal  for  the  objects  of  the  Institute, 
but  shi  always  regarded  the  promotion  of  the  spiiitual  and  tem- 
poral happiuess  of  her  children  as  her  first  duty.  In  her  Rule,  she 
ordains  that  "  special  care  be  taken  of  the  sick,  and  suitable  reme- 
dies provided  according  to  the  prescription  of  the  physicio  ,i ;"  that 
"the  Sisters,  especially  the  Mother  Superior,  visit  them  frequc  tly, 
treat  them  with  the  tenderest  charity,  and  piously  console  theiu."* 


*  Tho  kindnoHS  shown  to  the  weakly  among  her  cliUdren  wna  well  known  in 
Dablln,  but  it  wan  also  known  thnt  it  never  interfered  with  diiioiplino.  To  a 
young  Iftdy,  who  was  undecided  what  Order  slie  sliould  join,  her  director,  an 
old  prlebt,  and  very  pleasant  withal,  said  :  "  Go  to  llio  Sisters  of  Mercy.  You  are 
not  strong,  nud  they  will  And  you  easy  work,  and  moke  great  allowances  for 
your  delicacy.  But,"  he  continued,  changing  Ids  tone,  "in  order  to  jn'rwevere 
ther0,  you  muBt  be  perfectly  obedient.  If  thoy  order  you  to  go  up  tho  oliirnney, 
you'll  have  to  do  it."  "I  should  ask  .^oine  of  them  to  go  u|>  before  nio,  and 
■how  me  tho  way,"  said  tho  little  lady,  archly.  However,  she  followed  his  ad- 
vice; but  w«  do  not  think  her  obedieuoo  woa  put  to  ao  aevera  a  teit. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


349 


feet,  whidli  are 
body.  She  ex- 
Slstcr  Monica 
;  prayers  two  or 
e  concludta  she 
ipeared.  The  in- 
lier  anns,  and,  as 
•d  her  head,  and, 


'a  devotion  to  the 
describe  it.    She 
nost  trifling  com- 
i  long  as  possible ; 
Yet,  though  her 
!,  she  never  alludes 
if  a  spiritual  child, 
re'at,"  says  a  spirl- 
(irit  of  God  reigns 
the  Spirit  of  God 
cy  governed.    No 
B  of  the  Institute, 
spiiitual  and  tem- 
In  her  Rule,  she 
and  suitable  reme- 
e  physicio  .1 ;"  that 
it  them  frequr  My, 
ly  console  them."* 


on  wM  woU  known  in 

dUcipliiio.     To  a 

join,  hor  director,  on 

rs  of  Mercy.   You  »r« 

gront  nllowance*  for 

in  order  to  pi'rnovera 

to  go  up  tlio  oliiinney, 
go  u),  beloro  mo,  »nd 
»lio  followed  lii»  ad- 

vere  n  teat. 


The  Fonndress  does  not  seem  to  have  ever  met  any  peisons  like 
the  Sister  St.  Teresa  describes,  who  would  not  go  to  choir  to- 
day because  she  had  a  headache,  to-morrow  because  she  had  had 
one  yesterday,  and  the  day  after,  lest  she  should  get  one  next  day. 
Rev.  Mother's  delicate  subjects  were  with  difficulty  prevailed  on 
to  lessen  their  labors,  and  as  for  taking  change  of  air,  this  ap- 
pears to  be  the  only  point  on  which  they  ever  showed  reluctance 
•  to  obey  her.  "  Sister  M.  Cecilia,"  she  writes,  "  is  gone  to  Birr. 
As  she  was  to  go  there  to  play  at  the  ceremony,  I  had  not  much 
difficulty  to  surmount.  All  have  strong  objections  to  move  merely 
for  health's  sake."  The  spu"it  of  labor  universal  in  the  house  gave 
her  great  delight.  She  considered  moderate  occupation  of  mind 
and  body  a  remedy  for  many  little  troubles,  and  not  unfrequently  a 
preventive.  There  was  almost  every  variety  of  work  to  be  done 
at  St.  Mary's.  Tiie  more  active  duties  fell  chiefly  to  the  robust, 
and  there  were  charges  which  had  responsibility  and  but  little 
physical  fatigue  for  the  weakly.  Other  work,  such  as  transcribing, 
translating,  illumination,  embroidery  for  the  altar,  painting  and 
printing,  &c.,  was  suited  to  the  delicate  and  convalescing.  When 
the  brain  was  weary,  the  fingers  could  work  ;  and  when  they  were 
tired  tlie  brain  was  rested.  "  In  heaven  alone  should  the  Sister  of 
Mercy  look  for  rest,"  said  the  Foundress,  and  it  was  there  alone 
she  sought  it.  Her  children  followed  her  example.  When  no 
longer  able  "  to  implant  Jesus  Christ  in  the  hearts  of  the  poor," 
they  transcribed  or  translated'what  might  aid  in  implanting  Him 
in  Religious,  His  dearest  poor  ;  or  they  adorned  His  word  with 
choice  illuminations  ;  or  they  transposed  and  copied  for  their  dis- 
tant Sisters  the  beautiful  music  sung  at  their  nuptials  with  Him  ; 

they  sought  to  beautify  with  curious  embroidery  the  vestments 
used  at  His  adorable  Sacrifice.  And  when  the  pen,  or  the  pencil^ 
or  the  needle  dropped  out  of  their  thin  fingers,  it  was  known  that 
heaven  was  near,  and  the  transition  was  easy  from  working  for 
Jesus  to  enjoying  Jesus.  The  deaths  at  St.  Mary's  usually 
amounted  to  several  in  the  year,  and  as  consumption  wus  usually 
the  messenger  that  summoned  the  servants  of  the  poor,  there  were 
always  invalids  to  do  the  ea.sy  work. 

With  reference  to  her  nephews,  Mother  McAuley  wrote  in  1889 : 


I 


wtm 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 

"  My  poor  James  and  Robert  are  gone  from  me.  I  have  not 
seen  them  these  seven  months."  She  was  destined  soon  to  see 
them  no  more  on  earth.  Her  brother,  who  continued  a  Protestant, 
vainly  used  bis  influence  to  make  them  change  their  religion.  Ro- 
bert had  passed  through  a  collegiate  course  of  extraordinary  dis- 
tinction, and  continued  to  give  evidence  of  a  high  order  of  intellect. 
With  an  inborn  consciousness  of  mental  superiority,  he  resolved 
to  do  great  things  in  the  literary  world,  and  did  not  care  to  meet 
his  aunt  till  be  had  won  his  spurs.  Scorning  patronn^  ,  he  proudly 
relied  on  his  own  genius  ;  but  the  heart-burnings  of  authorship, 
the  crushing  sarcasms  of  the  unkind,  the  thought  that  he  could  be 
successful  only  by  pandering  to  a  diseased  popular  taste,  and  the 
bitter  feeling  that  there  was  no  kind  hand  to  foster  his  genius,  no 
kind  eye  to  beckon  him  onward — that  he  must  be  misunderstood 
by  thoR(!  who  loved  him,  and  that  even  his  own  devoted  brother 
could  not  sympathize  in  his  secret  sorrows — all  preyed  on  a  dispo- 
sition morbidly  sensitive,  and  a  constitution  never  robust.  The 
trials  Gerald  Griffin  had  passed  through,  but  not  unscathed,  soon 
killed  Robert  McAuley.  The  fairness  of  the  boy's  angelic  face 
became  transparent,  the  blue  veins  were  distinct,  and  the  dark  eyes 
glowed  with  a  peculiar  unearthly  lustre.  He  possessed,  in  a  high 
degree,  the  gentleness  and  amiability  which  seemed  heirlooms  in 
his  family  ;  but  he  sometimes  displayed  a  certain  hauteur,  result- 
ing, perhaps,  from  the  vexations  which  began  so  early  to  cross 
his  path.  A  little  of  this  manifested  in  an  interview  with  his 
aunt,'he  reasonably  expected  might  have  pained  her  ;  and  as  she 
departed  for  England  next  day,  he  was  unable  to  hear  from  her 
own  lips  how  freely  and  how  fully  she  forgave  him.  During  her 
absence,  his  disease,  heretofore  scarcely  perceptible,  threatened 
fatal  consequences.  He  at  once  wrote  to  apologize  for  his  haeti 
ness  ;  but  the  affectionat*  reply,  promptly  forwarded  and  eagerly 
expected,  found  him  in  eternity.  Soothed  by  the  consolations 
which  the  Church  lavishes  on  her  departing  children,  he  sank  very 
rapidly,  his  lust  wish  being  that  his  aunt  and  the  Sisters,  who  were 
constantly  at  his  side,  might  never  forget  him  in  their  prayers. 
Tlie  thought  that  this,  the  most  cherished  of  her  nephews,  had 
departed  without  knowing  how  fully  she  forgave  him,  rendered  this 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  M^AULEY. 


861 


ne.    I  inave  not 
led  soon  to  see 
led  a  Protestant, 
ir  religion.    Ro- 
straordinory  dis- 
)rder  of  intellect, 
ity,  he  Teaolved 
not  care  to  meet 
jnnpc,  he  proudly 
Ts  of  authorship, 
,  that  he  could  be 
lar  taste,  and  the 
tcr  his  genius,  no 
be  misunderstood 
1  devoted  brother 
preyed  on  a  dispo- 
ever  robust.    The 
)t  unscathed,  soon 
boy's  angelic  face 
and  the  dark  eyes 
ossessed,  in  a  high 
lemed  heirlooms  in 
lin  hauteur,  result- 
so  early  to  cross 
interview  with  his 
id  her  ;  and  as  she 
e  to  hear  from  her 
him.    During  her 
iptible,  threatened 
logize  for  his  hasti 
ivarded  and  eagerly 
y  the  consolations 
drcn,  he  sank  very 
le  Sisters,  who  were 
m  in  their  prayers, 
f  her  nephews,  had 
him,  rendered  this 


bereavement  doubly  affecting  to  her  sensitive  heart.     On  hearing 
it  she  wrote,  "  I  can  only  pray." 

The  Order  of  Mercy  had  from  its  commencement  excited  deep 
interest  in  the  Catholics  of  England.  Among  its  first  subjects 
were,  as  we  have  already  stated,  two  English  converts.  Dr. 
Griffiths,  Vicar  Apostolic  of  the  London  district,  eager  to  estab- 
lish a  convent  in  Bermondsey,  had  sent  two  English  ladies,  both 
converts,  to  make  a  novitiate  in  Ireland,  it  having  been  previously 
agreed  that  they  should  return  with  the  Sisters  destined  to  open 
the  first  house  of  the  Order  in  England.  One  of  these  was  known 
to  the  literary  world  as  the  authoress  of  Oeraldine*  In  a  letter 
dated  August  15,  1831),.  the  Foundress  says  :  "  The  English  no- 
vices are  to  be  professed  in  Cork  on  the  19th  inst.  I  must  assist, 
as  Bishop  Murphy  gays  it  will  be  necessary,  and  that  every  aid 
must  be  given  to  England,  and  every  mark  of  interest  shown." 
O'Connell  and  other  distinguished  friends  of  the  Institute  urged 
the  Foundress  to  omit  nothing  calculated  to  testify  the  interest 
Ireland  took  in  these  English  foundations.  They  beheld,  with  a 
high  degree  of  national  pride,  English  ladies  of  the  highest  rank 
coming  to  Ireland  to  learn  the  spirit  of  a  monastic  life  that  exhaled 
its  odors  beyond  the  cloister.  It  reminded  them  of  those  halcyoi. 
times,  when  the  royal  dames  of  Eurcpe  sent  to  the  Island  of 
Saints  for  Virgins  to  teach  the  maxims  of  perfection  in  their 
respective  countries  ;  when  not  only  the  hardy  monk,  but  the 
delicate  princess,  nurtured  in  the  lap  of  luxury,  sought  a  home  in 
the  monasteries  of  the  "  Isle  of  Destiny." 

The  English  Sisters,  whose  virtues  endeared  them  to  all,  bore 
with  them,  in  a  special  manner,  the  affection  of  the  little  commu- 
nity from  which  they  separated  forever.  One  of  them,  a  splendid 
musician,  sang, with  a  slight  change  of  words,  that  exquisite  melody: 

"  Tho'  the  ]wit  gliinpae  of  Erin  with  sorrow  I  itee, 
Yot  wherever  Thou  art  sliull  sooin  Erin  to  me." 

•  "  Oeruldino  :  n  Tale  of  Conscience."  Tlio  hr«t  and  Hccoud  voiiiincB  of  this 
worlc  were  published  before  llio  authoress  became  a  SiBtor  of  Mercy,  tho  tliird 
after.  Numerous  similur  worltg  liavo  since  Ibsued  from  tliu  press,  bnt  to  us 
Oeruldino  seoniH  by  fur  tho  best  book  of  its  kind  in  English  ;  and  wo  think 
tho  literary  reputation  of  tho  distinguished  wnicr  had  stood  higher,  if  alio  laid 
ntido  her  eloquent  pen  when  alio  finished  thU  best  of  her  workii. 


-L 


859 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


There  were  laughter  and  tears  at  recreation  that  eTening. 
"Partings  from  home  and  friends  to  enter  Religion  are  cweet  sor- 
rows," said  the  Sisters,  "but  partings  in  lleligioa  are  bitter  sor- 
rows." Dr.  Blake,  wishing  to  sec  the  London  missionaries  in 
Newry,  they  went  there,  and  were  most  courteously  received  by  the 
Poor  Clares.  They  also  visited  the  Convents  in  TuUamore,  Char- 
levillc,  Carlow,  and  Limerick.  The  following  letter,  dated  No- 
vember n,  1839,  was  dispatched  to  St.  Leo's  the  day  before  they 
sailed :  '' 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  all  the  difiRculties  I  meet  in  getting  away 
from  this  poor  old  charge,  which  would,  and  will,  do  as  well  with- 
out me.  The  six  travellers  leave  dear  Ireland  to-morrow,  all  in 
tolerable  health,  and  more  than  tolerable  spirits.  Sister  M.  Clare 
rejoicing.  Sister  M.  Angustine  in  raptures,  and  their  Mother  all 
animation.  Sister  M.  Cecilia  greatly  improved  in  health,  and  Sis- 
ter M.  Teresa  bright  as  a  lark.  I  have  my  list  of  songs*  ready  for 
the  journey.  We  had  long  and  most  kind  visitfi  from  our  poor 
Archbishop,  and  a  cordial  leave-taking,  with  fervent  prayers  for 
our  safe  return.  Nine  Masses  are  to  be  offered  for  us  to-morrow, 
thank  Qod.  Father  O'Hanlon  is  alarmed  at  the  angry  things 
said  in  the  English  papera  (about  founding  a  Convent  in  London) ; 
he  gave  me  a  thousand  cant<ons.  He  and  Dean  Gaffuey  sail  with 
ns  to-morrow. 

With  her  characteristic  love  of  holy  poverty,  she  wrote  to  Very 
Rev.  Dr.  Butler,  who  was  greatly  interested  in  the  London  foun- 
dation, and  had  kindly  taken  charge  of  the  convent  in  coarse  of 

-*  Mother  MoAnley  uxej  ofYen  composo  and  sing  little  songs  for  the  amuie- 
ment  of  the  SiHtcrs,  but  though  hIio  was  a  most  elegant  reader,  she  sung  very 
badly.  Uno  dny,  it  being  announced  that  some  grout  amateur  musician  was 
•bout  to  enter  St.  Mory's,  one  of  the  Sisters  asked  the  Foundress  not  to  sing  at 
recreation  that  evening. 

"  Why  not,  ray  heart?"  askdd  the  Foundress. 

'*  Because,  Kuverend  Motlior,  you  have  a  very  bad  voice,"  said  the  Sister, 
w'.th  admirable  simplicity, 

"  Indeed  I  have,  my  child." 

"  Well,  sure  you  won't  sing  f" 

''No,  my  heart,  unless  some  of  you  press  me  loo  much." 

But  being  "  pressed,"  lievercnd  Mother  sang  with  as  much  ease  as  Catalan], 
hut  MM  \ras  the  only  quality  these  two  songstreitiRs  had  in  oommon. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


808 


that  evening. 

are  cweet  sor- 
are  bitter  sor- 
missionaries  in 
received  by  the 
uUamore,  Char- 
ter, dated  No- 
day  before  they 

in  getting  away 
do  as  well  with- 
o-morrow,  all  in 

Sister  M.  Clare 
theu-  Mother  all 
I  health,  and  Sia- 
songs*  ready  for 
J  from  onr  poor 
rvent  prayers  for 
for  ns  to-morrow, 
the  angry  things 

rent  in  London) ; 
affney  sail  with 

ic  wrote  to  Very 
the  London  foun- 
vent  in  course  of 

longs  for  the  aniuse- 
eader,  she  sang  very 
iiate«r  munioian  was 
indross  not  to  sing  at 

CO,"  Bttld  the  8Ut«, 


luch  cose  M  Catalanl, 
I  oomuion. 


erection,  stating  that  two  rooms  would  suffice  for  present  accom- 
modation. Indeed,  she  never  allowed  an  opportunity  of  practising 
poverty  to  glide  by  unimproved,  and  she  often  said,  that  if  this 
virtue  in  Jesus  Christ  reached  a  height  to  which  we  dare  not 
aspire,  yet  that  our  poverty  ought  to  possess  one  trait  in  common 
with  His, — that  of  being  perfectly  voluntary.  When  traveling, 
she  always  cautioned  the  Sisters  not  to  address  her  as  Reverend 
Mother,  or  show  her  any  mark  of  distinction.  This  was  a  source 
of  embarrassment  to  them,  for  they  could  not  bring  themselves  to 
address  her  otherwise  than  with  great  deference.  On  the  present 
occasion,  the  difficulty  was  obviated  in  an  amusing  way.  "  My 
traveling  title,"  she  wrote,  "  was  '  Friend  Catherine.' " 

They  reached  London  on  the  19th  November.  Bishop  Griffif  hs 
immediately  visited  them,  and  insisted  on  sharing  the  expense  of 
the  undertaking  ;  and  it  was  in  vain  they  assured  him  they  had  all 
that  v»u..  accessary.  On  the  Feast  of  the  Presentation,  he  said 
Mass  in  the  convent,  which  he  blessed  the  same  day.  Mother 
McAuley  was  no  great  admirer  of  the  famous  Pugin  style.  Ber- 
mondsey  Convent  she  described  as  not  likely  to  be  dry  for  three 
years.  The  unfinished  state  of  the  building,  and  the  great  severity 
of  tke  weather,  aided  in  developing  her  constitutional  tendency  to 
pulmonary  consumption  :  yet  she  survived  this  period  nearly  two 
years.  In  the  following  passage,  she  criticizes  somewhat  severely 
the  structure  and  its  famous  architect : 

"  Mr.  Pugin  was  determined  we  should  lot  look  out  of  the  win- 
dows, they  are  up  to  the  ceiling.  We  could  not  touch  the  glass 
without  standing  on  a  chair.  We  have  one  good  room  finished, 
with  brown  walls  and  a  long  table.  There  is  too  much  room  in 
some  places,  and  too  little  in  others.  The  noviceship  is  very  small, 
the  kitchen  fit  for  a  castle.  It  is  nearly  the  best  room  in  the 
house." 

Alluding  to  the  convent  in  Staflfordshire,  she  is  even  less  compli- 
mentary : 

"  I  have  seldom  seen  such  a  general  favorite  as  Mr.  Pugin  is  in 
this  pat '  of  England.  Nothing  is  perfect  that  he  does  not  plan 
and  execute.  Yet  I  do  think,  though  he  has  certainly  manifested 
much  tas  e,  that  some  of  his  plans  would  admit  of  improvement 


m 


m 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


For  example,  he  has  brought  the  cella  close  to  the  chapel  door, 
which,  I  fear,  will  be  attended  with  inconvenience.  I  (?-o  not  adr 
mire  his  gilded  figures  of  Saints.  They  are  very  coarse  representa- 
tions, and  by  no  means  calculated  to  inspire  devotion." 

Ou  the  12th  December,  she  gives  the  following  description  of 
the  first  ceremony  that  took  place  in  London  : 

"The  fine  church,  which  accommodates  five  thousand,  was 
crowded  at  an  early  hour,  the  seats  next  the  sanctuary  being  filled 
with  the  nobility.  High  Mass  commenced  at  eleven.  The  organ 
and  choir  are  considered  very  fine.  After  Mass,  the  hymn,  O 
Oloriosa  was  chanted  ;  and  we  advanced  in  procession  to  the  sanc- 
tuary. Sister  M.  Teresa  carrying  an  immense  cross :  Sisters  M. 
Cecilia,  Clare,  and  Augustine,  in  a  line,  to  make  the  most  of  a 
few.  M.  Clare  and  her  valuable  assistant,  with  the  Rx  postulants, 
following.  The  altar  is  the  highest  I  ever  saw,  nine  steps  and  two 
platforms.  M.  Clare  and  I  had  to  ascend  and  descend  with  each 
postulant  in  the  full  view  of  thousands.  The  Bishops  stood  at 
the  top  in  very  rich  episcopal  robes.  Thirty-six  priests  were  pre- 
sent. The  sermon,  explaining  the  nature  of  the  Order  and  the 
spiritual  and  corporal  works  of  mercy,  was  very  fine.  It  was 
preached  by  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Maguire,  and  will  be  published." 

Bishop  Qriffiths  testified  the  deepest  interest  in  this  first  expa- 
triated branch  of  the  Order,  and  was  on  many  occasions  a  kind 
friend  and  wise  counsellor  to  the  Foundress. 


:(}U- 


le  chapel  door, 

I  (?.o  not  adr 

larse  represcnta- 

on." 

g  description  of 


B  thousand,  was 
taary  being  fiUed 
iven.  The  organ 
ass,  the  hymn,  0 
jssion  to  the  sano- 
cross :  Sisters  M. 
ic  the  most  of  a 
the  RX  postalRnts, 
nine  steps  and  two 
descend  with  each 
Bishops  stood  at 
X  priests  were  pre- 
;he  Order  and  the 
very  fine.  It  was 
)e  published." 

in  this  first  expar 
ly  occasions  a  kind 


y-^(^. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

General  government.— Lady  Barbara  Eyre.— Her  Reception.— The  Court  Fri* 
sear.— Au  amasing  incident. — Oratitado  of  Ihe  Foundress. — Letters. 

rpHE  system  of  general  government  which  works  so  well  in  many 
X  congregations,  has,  like  all  things  here  below,  its  advantages 
and  its  disadvantages  ;  and  in  Rev.  Mother's  judgment  the  latter 
would  surpass  the  former  in  an  institute  such  as  she  designed. 
Tliis  form  was  established  to  some  extent  among  the  Irish  Sisters 
of  Charity,  and  many  suppose  this  to  be  the  cause  why  this  admirable 
society  has  spread  so  little  outside  the  capital.  The  idea  of  gene- 
ral goveriiment  among  female  Religious  is  uncongenial  in  Ireland. 
In  a  charitable  institution  the  pecuniary  relations  of  branch  houses 
with  the  mother  house  are  liable  to  be  misunderstood  or  misrepre- 
eentv  d  r  besides,  the  necessity  of  traveling  must  be  obviated  as 
much  as  possible,  that  the  time  and  expense  it  costs  may  be  ap- 
plied to  more  useful  purposes.  The  system  in  use  in  the  Order, 
the  Foundress  established  only  after  much  prayer,  lengthened  con- 
sultation with  the  most  eminent  ecclesiastics  in  Ireland,  and  frequent 
deliberations  with  her  Sisters.  It  had  been  tested  with  beneficial 
results  for  sixty  years  previous  by  the  Ursuline  and  Presentation 
Orders  ;  nor  could  she  see  any  inconvenience  arising  from  it  which 
might  not  also  arise  from  any  other  system  whose  agents  are  human 
beings.* 
When  ladies  of  rank  and  fortune  desire  to  devote  themselves  to 

*>  If  a  Sister's  liealth  seemed  lilcely  to  bo  benefited  by  a  change  of  air,  the 
Foundress  alwnyg  granted  the  cliange ;  but  she  would  not  hear  of  Kctigloua 
mnkiiig  excursions  for  recreation.  She  thought  if  cloistered  Sisters  were 
obliged  to  refrain  fi-om  these,  so  ought  uncloistered— indeed,  they  C':ild  not  be 
thought  of,  the  summer  vacation  being  only  about  two  weeks,  ton  days  of 
which  were  spent  in  retreat,  and  the  schools  being  the  only  one  of  taeir  dutiee 
ever  suspended. 


356 


Lli-'E  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


i 


the  poor,  their  bishops  and  relatives  do  not  always  wish  them  t  > 
leave  their  respective  dioceses.  I;  a  wealthy  lady  desires  to  endow 
a  convent  in  a  certain  district,  and  to  devote  herself  to  those  who, 
as  tenants  or  dependants,  have  a  special  claim  on  her,  the  Order 
of  Mercy  meets  these  emergencies,  which  an  Order  v'ih  a  dlEferent 
system  of  government  could  not  do  without  infringing  on  its  rules. 
The  Sisters  are  subjec  t  to  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  in  which 
each  convent  is  located,  whose  business  it  is  to  enforce  the  existing 
rules  and  observances,  but  who  cannot  impose  ariy  thing  further. 
If,  through  sickness  or  any  other  cause,  assistance  be  required  in  a 
young  House,  llic  convent  from  which  it  filiated  is  obliged  to  at- 
tend to  this,  if  older  Houses  cannot  lend  a  Sister  or  two.  Now,  if 
Mother  McAuley  had  established  general  government,  she  would 
be  ol>Iiged  to  relinquish  many  fine  establishments,  and,  conse- 
quently, many  great  opportunities  of  relieving  and  assisting  tie 
poor.  Fur  instance,  when  Miss  Hardman,  of  Birmingham,  mani- 
fested a  vocation  to  the  Order,  her  father  built  and  endowed  a 
convent  in  that  town,  on  condition  that  his  daughter  might  bo 
Bent  with  the  Si.s(ers  destined  for  that  Foundation,  when  her  novi- 
tiate was  completed.  Similar  arrangements  were  made  for  Miss 
Gibson  of  Lancashire,  Miss  Archibald  of  Elphin,  Mrs.  Burke  of 
Kinsali ,  etc.  Motuer  McAulcy,  who  used  every  lawful  means, 
natural  as  well  as  supernatural,  for  furthering  her  many  benevolent 
projects,  delighted  to  send  Sisters  to  the  neighborhood  of  their 
rich  relatives,  knowing  tha?  the  latter,  under  such  circumstances, 
would  be  more  ready  to  aid  and  patronize  works  beneficial  to  the 
poor.  Many,  if  not  a  majority,  of  the  Convents  of  Mercy,  were 
founded  by  ladies  who,  in  their  native  places,  desired  to  assist  the 
poor,  or  wli  wished  to  aid  them  in  districts  where  their  miserable 
condition  excited  special  compassion.  Thus,  a  few  years  ago,  Miss 
Fanny  Murphy,  a  lady  singularly  gifted  by  nature  and  grace  (niece 
to  the  late  Bishop  of  Cork),  erected  and  endowed  a  convent  in 
Bantry,  for  the  relief  uf  the  numerous  poor  of  that  town  ;  and, 
though  her  charity  received  u  speedy  recompense,  the  poor  people 
among  whom  she  sleeps  will,  for  ages  to  come,  bless  her  memory. 

Among  the  liable  postulants  who  entered  the  Bermondscy  Con- 
vent was  the  L  idy  Barbara  Eyre,  daughter  of  the  late  Earl  of 


_L 


LIFE   OP   CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


887 


^3  wish  them  to 
,esires  to  endow 
f  to  those  who, 
her,  the  Order 
vlth  a  diEferent 
ing  on  its  .rules, 
iliocese  in  which 
brcc  the  existing 
;.y  thing  further, 
be  required  m  a 
is  obliged  to  at- 
or  two.    Now,  if 
iimcnt,  she  would 
snts,   and,   conse- 
and  assisting  tl  e 
Jirroingham,  maui- 
It  and  endowed  a 
aughter  might  bo 
on,  when  her  novi- 
;re  wade  for  Miss 
lin,  Mrs.  Burke  of 
ery  lawful  means, 
r  many  benevolent 
hborhood  of  theur 
ucb  circumstances, 
beneficial  to  the 
._  of  Mercy,  were 
esired  to  assist  the 
their  miserable 
years  ago.  Miss 
and  grace  (niece 
iwcd  a  convent  in 
that  town  ;  and, 
the  poor  people 
iless  her  memory. 
Bermondsey  Con- 
the  late  Earl  of 


Newbnrgh.  Her  ladyship's  two  maids,  who  entered  at  the  same 
time  as  Lay  Sisters,  could  not  refrain  from  addressing  their  former 
mistre.«s  as  "  my  lady."  The  wise  Foundress,  for  a  time,  winked 
at  this  iiiuovation  in  conventual  etiquette  ;  but  the  lad\  herself, 
soon  perceiving  the  inconvenience  of  it,  ordered  them  not  to  ad- 
dress her  iipjain  by  her  hereditary  title.  Some  of  the  Sisters  were 
of  opinion  that  Sister  Barbara  ought  to  be  treated  just  like  any 
one  else  ;  but  this,  Reverend  Mother  would  consider  "  unjustly 
just."  She  was  too  wise  to  treat  a  noble  lady,  no  longer  young, 
and  who  had  for  years  enjoyed  her  own  separate  establishment, 
with  as  little  consideratcness  as  she  would  evitu.i'  towards  a  girl 
in  her  teens,  who  stepped  from  the  schoolroom  to  the  novitiate, 
and  had  always  been  ruled  by  others.  At  first,  she  allowed  a 
Sister  to  arrange  Lady  Barbara's  cell,  and  then  showed  her  the 
necessity  of  learning  to  wait  on  herself,  as  Si.sters  of  Mere}  \cept 
when  incapacitated  by  ilhiess,  are  obliged  to  be  their  own  servants. 
She  also  handed  the  noble  postulant  her  letters  unopened,  and, 
after  a  while,  explained  the  regulations  on  that  head,  in  which  her 
ladyship  at  once  acquiesced.  Mother  McAuley  wrote  thus  of  her: 
"  Lady  Barbara  has  commenced  her  novitiate  in  the  most  edifying 
manner — quite  a  model  of  humility  and  obedience." 

Reverend  Mother  believed  that  much  good  might  be  accom- 
plished on  new  foundations  by  one  or  two  public  ceremouies ;  hence 
she  usually  took  with  her  a  Sister  whose  probation  was  near  its 
close,  and  invited  all  the  clergy  and  persons  t  note  in  the  neigh- 
borhood to  the  reception,  or  profession.  '  People  will  learn  the 
objects  of  the  Order  from .  the  sermon,"  she  said  ;  "  we  may  thus 
get  good  subjects  who  otherwise  would  not  think  of  us,  the  poor 
w  ill  gain  new  friends,  and  we  shall  have  more  means  of  assisting 
tlicm."  As  may  be  seen  by  her  letters,  she  ared  uv  pains  of 
rendering  t  hese  ceremonies  solemn  and  interesting.  The  dress,  the 
music,  the  dejeuner,  all  shared  her  attention.  In  those  days  of 
weary  mail-coach  travel,  she  sent  her  best  musitrans  to  aid  the 
choirs  of  distant  convents,  and  often  went  hcrsf't,  t  great  incon- 
venience. Now,  the  Newburgh  family,  wishing  to  give  unusual 
iclat  to  Lady  Barbara's  "  clothing,"  arranged  that  the  postulante 
was  to  be  dressed  in  full  court  costume;  that  special  seats  were  to 


I 


V 


w^ 


\tnmm^ 


35S 


LIFE   OP  CATHERINE   MCatTLEY. 


be  raised  in  Bcnnondacy  Church  for  noble  &  .J  otherwise  distin- 
guished guests;  tlie  first  sacred  orator  of  the  day  euiisted  for  the 
sermon;  and  the  music  under  the  direction  of  the  mt>8t  efficient 
conductor.  Two  hundred  poor  childrnu,  whom  they  gracefully 
sought  this  opportunity  ov  clothing,  wiro  to  be  present  in  a  uni- 
form of  brown  cashmere,  white  aprons,  and  tippets.  This  was  the 
only  arrangement  that  pleased  Reverend  Mother.  .She  thought  it 
was  very  well  to  seek  the  patronage  of  th(j  noble,  for  ihe  sake  of 
the  poor,  but  she  felt  that  it  might  be  purchased  ot  less  evpense  :  nor 
did  she  care  to  see  as  much  thrown  away  on  one  flourish  of  this 
kind  as  would  support  a  hundred  poor  people  for  half  a  year.  One 
part  of  the  proceeding  amused,  while  it  annoyed  her  more  than  the 
rest ;  it  was,  that  the  services  of  her  British  Majesty's  hair- 
dresser were  deemed  necessary  in  arranging  the  locks  of  the  novice- 
elect.  This  personage  arrived  on  the  appointed  morning,  accom- 
panied by  another  gentlem&n  of  the  same  profession,  almost  equally 
famous  for  his  decorative  genius.  Monsieur  Truffette,  a  dapper 
little  man,  redolent  of  attar  of  roses,  and  dressed  in  the  latest  Par 
risian  style,  seated  himself  on  the  sofa,  dividing  his  attention  be- 
tween the  ceiling  and  the  morning  paper,  casting  an  occasional 
glance  of  sublime  indifference  at  the  labors  of  his  meek-looking  and 
most  deferential  partner,  who  was  arranging  the  lady's  tre-sses. 
Conscious  of  his  own  importance,  and  aware  that  he  was  confer- 
ring a  lasting  favor  on  the  Newburgh  family,  a  placid  smile  occa- 
sionally lit  up  his  serene  countenance.  When  "  Number  Two" 
had  exhausted  his  skill.  Monsieur  condescended  to  rise  and  direct 
his  orbs  towards  the  elaborately  adorned,  head  ;  a  smile  of  appro- 
val parted  his  lips,  and  he  amazed  the  assistant  by  condescending 
to  touch  a  small  feather  which  bent  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in 
the  wrong  direction.  The  quartette  now  resumed  the  perpendicu- 
lar. Reverend  Mother  gazed  in  silent  wonderment,  not  knowing 
what  wtis  to  come  next.  Her  ladyship  thanked  Monsieur  for  his 
prompf  itadc  in  waiting  on  her,  who  in  reply  assured  "  my  lady" 
that,  were  it  possible,  he  would  do  as  much  for  any  member  of  her 
noble  house.  After  bowing  first  to  opposites,  and  then  diagonal- 
ly, "  the  world"  went  out  of  the  Convent,  and  a  carriage  bore 
Mkssiettrs  les/riseurs  to  a  less  peuiteutial  atmosphere. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


859 


herwisc  distln- 
euHsted  for  the 
;  most  efficient 
they  gracefully 
iresent  in  a  «ni* 
This  was  the 
She  thought  it 
for  the  Bake  of 
jas  cvponae  :  nor 
flourish  of  this 
jalfayear.    One 
er  more  than  the 
Majesty's  hair- 
cks  of  the  novice- 
morning,  accom- 
on,  almost  equally 
ruffette,  a  dapper 
I  in  the  latest  Par 
his  attention  bo- 
ng an  occasional 
meek-looking  and 
he  lady's  tresses, 
at  he  was  confer- 
placid  smile  occar 
1  "Number  Two" 
to  rise  and  direct 
a  smile  of  appro- 
by  condescending 
rter  of  an  inch  in 
ed  the  perpendicu- 
ment,  not  knowing 
„  Monsieur  for  hia 
ssnred  "my  lady" 
any  member  of  her 
and  then  diagonal- 
a  carriage  bore 
iphere. 


"  My  dear,"  said  the  Foundress,  innocently,  "  was  it  necessary  to 
pay  that  person  twenty-fire  guineas  for  sitting  on  the  sofa  and 
reading  the  newspaper  ?"  '*  Oh,  Mother,"  replied  her  ladyship,  "  he 
merely  oversees.  He  would  lose  caste  if  he  decorated  any  huad 
but  the  Queen's.  I  feel  grateful  to  him  for  coming;  indeed,  I 
hardly  expected  him  to  come  here." 

Lady  Barbara  could  give  plausible  reasons  for  court  etiquette, 
but  all  the  logic  from  Aristotle  to  Locke  could  not  convince  the 
Foundress  of  the  expediency  of  employing  her  Majesty's  hair- 
dresser in  a  Convent.    However,  she  made  no  farther  allusion  to  it. 

As  this  lady  was  the  first  of  the  rank  of  an  earl's  daughter  that 
had  entered  a  Convent  in  England  for  centuries,  it  was  thought 
that  some  privileges  she  seemed  to  require,  and  which  several  Or 
ders  would  yield  to  a  gentlewoman  of  less  rank,  would  be  readily 
conceded.  Yet  this  was  not  the  case.  The  following  passage  oc- 
curs in  a  letter  dated  May,  1841  : 

"Lady  Barbara,  now  Sister  M.  de  Sales,  is  professed  at  last,  an 
humble  Sister  of  Mercy.  She  found  it  hard  to  relinquish  all,  bat 
no  other  terms  would  be  agreed  to."  The  noble  lady  desired  to 
reserve  a  private  pension  out  of  her  vast  fortune,  but  on  matters 
concerning  the  vow  of  poverty.  Reverend  Mother  was  inflexible  j 
and  when  Sister  M.  de  Sales  saw  this,  she  offered  to  submit  to  any 
alternative  rather  than  leave  the  Institute.  She  survived  her  pro- 
fession eight  years,  dying  in  1849. 

A  new  Gothic  building,  however  picturesque,  is  not  a  very  com- 
fortable abode  in  December  and  January.  To  the  Foundress,  who 
always  chose  for  herself  the  worst  of  every  thing,  London  proved 
very  unhealthy.  She  coughed  continually  during  the  nights,  and  the 
inflammatory  attacks  to  which  she  was  a  martyr,  greatly  increased 
in  violence  and  frequency.  On  the  thurtieth  of  January  she  wrote 
from  St.  Mary's  :  "  I  have  been  confined  to  bed  since  my  return; 
not  down  till  yesterday.  I  was  obliged  to  have  a  physician. 
Then  my  old  mouth  complaint  kept  me  on  infants'  diet  for  eleven 
days."  For  many  years  she  had  been  subject  to  a  putrid  sore 
month,  and  while  it  l&sted,  bread  and  water,  with  a  little  milk,  used 
to  be  her  only  food.  As  these  attacks  were  very  frequent,  "  in- 
fants' diet"  was  her  ordmary  food.  ,        . 


tSSmmiSxiumirf^siaiimmm 


m 


860 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


■    Speaking  of  Sister  M.  Clare,  late  Superior-  of  St.  Marie's  of  the 
Isle,  whom  Kh'i  loaned  to  Bermondsey,  she  writes  : 

"  My  poor  Sister  Clare  is  Superior  in  London  till  the  twentieth 
of  August  next.  They  will  be  anxious  to  keep  her  there,  if  Bishop 
Murphy  consents.  The  Bishop  of  London  is  greatly  pleased  with 
her  :  he  said  he  never  saw  so  much  maturity  in  so  young  a  person, 
and  that  she  had  solid  judgment  in  her  countenance.  She  is, 
thank  God,  perfectly  indiflferent  as  to  where  or  how  she  shall  be." 

Almost  immediately  after  her  /eturn.  Rev.  Mother  lost  one  of 
the  very  few  priests  who  would  venture  openly  to  disagree 
with  Dr.  Meyler  on  the  chaplaincy  question.  She  thus  speaks  of 
her  loss : 

"I  have  just  heard  of  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Coleman's  death,  and, 
indeed,  I  have  reason  to  be  heartily  sorry.  Bishop  Blake  having 
mentioned  to  him  how  much  I  was  afflicted,  with  regard  to  the 
arrangements  making  us  to  the  chaplaincy,  though  he  was  exceed- 
ing weak  and  the  weather  most  severe,  he  came  here  several  times, 
went  to  Dr.  Meyler,  and  used  all  the  means  in  his  power  to  hnve 
it  as  we  wished.  When  he  could  not  succeed,  he  wrote  me  such  a 
kind,  fatherly  note  ;  I  can  never  forget  his  great  tenderness  and 
Christian  manner  of  acting.  He  desired  that  we  should  regard 
him  as  a  paTticHla.r  friend,  and  immediately  he  is  called  away.  His 
death  was  quite  sudden.  May  Qod  receive  him  into  the  glory  of 
heaven  1" 

li  will  bo  noticed  that  when  any  person  strove  to  assist  Mother 
McAuley,  she  was  equally  grateful,  whether  success  followed  the 
effort  or  not.  In  the  letter  from  which  we  make  the  ab.'^ve  extract, 
she  declares  herself  to  be  "  perplexed  and  weary,  and  out  of  con- 
ceit with  everything."  Her  last  new  branch  could  scarce  be  called 
a  solace,  for  she  writes — "  Booterstown  is  an  additional  weight  on 
my  mind.  I  have  endless  anxiety  there,  and  no  animating  cir- 
cnmstance,  except  the  hope  that  God  may  receive  some  small 
portion  of  glory  from  the  assistance  given  to  his  poor." 

Whatever  Mother  McAuley  writes,  her  intense  devotion  to  the 
poor  always  appears.     Be  it  a  letter,  or  a  rule,*  or  an  instruction, 

*  *'  Ah  tlio  Sisters  of  tliis  Iimtituto  must  employ  &  great  part  of  their  timeiit- 
itvucting  the  poor,"  <&c.,  Kule,  Clap.  IX.  Sec.  1.    "The  Sistsrs  shnll  alwtyi 


XIFE  OF  OATHEJHNE  MCAULET, 


861 


.  Marie's  of  ibe 

ill  the  twentieth 
there,  if  Bishop 
itiy  pleased  with 
I  young  a  person, 
,enance.    She  is, 
,w  she  shall  be." 
[other  lost  one  of 
enly  to  disagree 
he  thus  speaks  of 

•man's  death,  and, 
shop  Blake  having 
with  regard  to  the 
ngh  he  was  exceed- 
here  several  times, 
his  power  to  hftve 
he  wrote  me  such  a 
reat  tenderness  and 
we  should  regard 
called  away.  His 
into  the  glory  of 

,ve  to  assist  Mother 
success  followed  the 
Le  the  abrve  extract, 

-,ry,  and  out  of  con- 
)uld  scarce  be  called 
idditional  weight  on 
d  no  animating  cir- 
receive  some  smaU 

is  poor." 

ease  devotion  to  the 
*  or  an  instruction, 

.tat  part  of  their  tinte  in- 
The  BiBtws  BhMl  »lw»y» 


is 


the  poor  are  never  absent.  Thongh  she  embraced  the  whole  hih 
man  race  in  that  heart  of  hers,  which  "  overflowed  with  the  charity 
of  Jesus,"  yet  its  fondest  throbbings  were  for  His  more  special 
representatives,  and  she  seems  to  have  thought  that  the  angels 
themselves  love  better  to  guard  the  poor  than  the  rich,  fully  sub- 
scribing to  this  sweet  sentiment  of  a  "  sister  poet :" 

"  The  poor  are  the  some  us  the  rich  to  them. 
Or,  if  tliere's  a  change,  'tis  only 
That  soinctimcs  the  angels  thinl<  more  of  them, 
They  arc  so  unloved  and  lonely." 

Her  charity  to  the  sick  was  far  from  being  confined  to  the  Sis- 
ters.  The  poor  servant  that  entered  the  House  of  Mercy  worn 
with  thankless  toil,  and  the  orphan  picked  up  in  a  dingy  alley, 
found  in  her  a  fond  mother.  For  natural  as  well  as  spiritual  evils, 
she  was  all  charity,  and  she  could  not  be  wearied  in  well-doing. 
But  this  is  only  what  we  should  expect  of  her.  A  chivalrous 
monarch  once  said  :  "  If  honor  be  banished  from  all  other  places, 
it  ought  to  find  a  home  in  the  breasts  of  kings."  With  greater 
reaso  1  might  we  expect  that  if  charity  were  banished  from  the 
hearts  of  all  others,  it  ought  to  find  a  refuge  in  the  heart  of  a  Sis- 
ter of  Mercy.  "  If  an  action  has  a  hundred  faces,  always  look  at 
the  best  of  them,"  said  the  gentle  Saint  of  Geneva.  This  was 
Mother  McAuley's  practice.  She  is  ever  ready  to  console,  to  make 
extraordinary  allowances  for  the  shortcomings  of  poor  human  na- 
ture ;  but  to  reprove  or  inflict  a  penance  seemed  almost  impossible 
to  the  sweet  spirit  that  would  scarcely  believe  any  one  wilfully 
crr"d.  When  a  fault  was  too  manifest  to  be  dissembled,  compas- 
sion was  the  feeling  it  excited  within  her,  and  this,  she  believed 
with  St.  Bernard,  to  be  the  most  necessary  quality  for  those  who 
are  obliged  to  correct  others.  "  Without  it,"  says  he,  "  wo  should 
shatter  the  strong  ships  ot  Tbarsis,  break  the  reed  already  bruised, 

have  the  warmext  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God,  that  .  ,  .  under  her  pow- 
erful protection  they  may  be  enabled  to  implant  Jmu  Christ  iv  tht  htatt*  f/  tli4 
poor  whom  thry  art  charged  to  iuttrvct,"  Rule  XIII.  1.  •  The  Bisters  of  tliis 
ln»tituto  being  continnully  employed  in  the  tpiritual  i  V'l  corporal  workt  tjf 
mtrcy,"  Rule  XX.  1.  "  As  the  Sisters  of  this  lustitut:^  a  •«  dtvottd  to  thtpoor," 
liulo  X.,  &c.,  &o.  ,    ,     ...  .„ 

16 


362 


LIFE   OP  CATHERINE   MCAULEY. 


extinguish  the  spark  which  still  causes  the  flax  to  smoke,  and 
crush  out  whatever  little  good  may  remain  in  our  pooi',  erring  fel- 
low-creature." Rev.  Mother  often  expatiated  on  the  description 
the  prophet  had  given  of  our  Lord  :  "  The  bruised  reed  He  shall 
not  break,  and  the  smoking  flax  He  shall  not  extinguish  He  shall 
not  be  sad  or  troublesome  ;"  telling  the  Sisters  to  be  constantly 
striving  to  imitate  Him,  so  that  whoever  conversed  with  them 
might  be  reminded  of  some  passage  in  His  life  ;  but  above  and  be- 
fore all  things,  she  desired  that  they  should  everywhere  diffuse  "  the 
sweetness  of  Jesus,"  that  by  their  very  looks,  no  less  than  their 
words,  they  might  attract  His  erring  children  to  His  friendship  and 
love.  But  the  poor  were  never  absent  from  her  thoughts.  "  God 
knows,"  she  wrote, "  that  I  would  rather  be  col<i  and  hungry  thnn  that 
His  poor  in  Kiugstown  or  elsewhere,  should  be  deprived  of  any  conso- 
lai'on  in  my  power  to  bestow."  And  corporal  alms  seemed  small  in 
lier  eyes,  if  unaccompanied  by  kindness,  sympathy,  and  spiritual  alms. 
A  priest  once  complained  that  it  would  be  easier  to  procure  an  in- 
terview with  the  Pfne  than  with  Miss  McAuley ;  but  this  was  not 
the  experience  of  the  i  lor,  to  whose  tales  of  woe  she  listened  till 
sleep  overpowered  her,  and  when  a  Sister  roused  her,  she  would 
not  still  move  from  her  little  room  till  she  heard  and  consoled 
every  poor  creature  that  asked  her  sympathy.  To  the  poor  she 
was  ever  accessible,  and  the  more  so  as  she  knew  that  poverty  and 
crime  are  treated  in  the  same  manner  under  the  British  govern- 
ment ;  or  rather,  the  latter  has  the  advantage,  the  prisons  for 
criminals  being  in  every  respect  more  comfortable  than  the  prisons 
for  the  poor.  She  could  not  bear  to  mention  the  poor-house  to  the 
destitute,  and  she  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  mixing  promiscuously 
the  pious,  decent  poor,  with  the  vagrants  and  immoral  persons  uo- 
avoidably  admitted  to  such  institutions  as  poor-houses, 

"  Love  one  another  as  I  have  'oved  you."  Political  economy 
could  never  reach  this.  It  can  indeed  lock  up  the  poor,  like  crim- 
inals, and  feed  and  clothe  them  worse  than  murderers,  but  it  will 
not  be  found  to  go  much  further.  But  Christians,  who  "  ought  to 
die  for  the  brethren,"  how  can  they  "  banish  suffering,  that  its 
agonies  may  not  disturb  thein,  or  subject  poverty  to  perpetual  in- 
carceration, that  they  may  not  oc  offended  by  its  rags  ?"    The 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


863 


S 

'I 


X  to  smoke,  and 
r  poov,  erring  fel- 
)a  the  description 
ed  reed  He  shall 
inguish     He  shall 
)  to  be  constantly 
iversed  with  them 
but  above  and  be- 
where  diffuse  "  the 
no  less  than  their 
I  His  friendship  and 
•  thoughts.     "  God 
nd  hungry  thnn  that 
jprived  of  any  conso- 
lims  seemed  small  in 
y,  and  spiritual  alms, 
er  to  procure  an  in- 
ly ;  but  this  was  not 
ffoe  she  listened  till 
luscd  her,  she  would 
heard  and  consoled 
To  the  poor  she 
[ew  that  poverty  and 
the  British  govcrn- 
|agc,  the  prisons  for 
Lie  than  the  prisons 
the  poor-house  to  the 
liixing  promiscuously 
immoral  persons  un- 
Ir-houses. 

Political  economy 
the  poor,  like  crim- 
.mrderers,  but  it  will 
lians,  who  "  ought  to 
[sh  suffering,  that  its 
lerty  to  perpetual  iu- 
by  its  rags?"    Tlie 


Foundress,  with  her  intense  love  of  the  poor,  never  sat  down  to  a 
meal  without  thinking  of  their  necessities,  nor  did  she  think  any 
one  had  a  vocation  to  her  Institute  whose  heart  was  not  "  Cli'xi 
with  the  tenderest  pity  and  charity  for  the  poor,"  as  she  says  in 
her  Rule.  The  great  distress  that  prevailed  at  diflferent  periods  of 
her  life  sorely  grieved  her,  when  she  thought  how  very  little  she 
could  do  to  relieve  it.  The  princely  revenues  which  should  have 
relieved  the  pooi,  were  in  the  hands  of  the  "  Establishment,''  and 
it  is  notorious  that  though  some  of  its  dignitaries  used  the  crow- 
bar* more  than  the  crozier,  none  of  them  ever  thought  of  '*  dying 
for  the  brethren."  "  The  workhouses  have  not  lessened  our  num- 
bers," she  wrote  in  1840,  "  and  to  speak  of  the  poor-house  to  any 
of  our  poor  inmates  is  a  kind  of  condemnation.  There  is  such  a 
mixture  of  immoral  persons  unavoidably  admitted,  that  the  reduced 
orderly  persons  cannot  bear  to  go  there," 

The  gratitude  of  the  Foundress  towards  those  who  aided  her  to 
assist  the  poor  was  great  and  constant.  Indeed,  though  she  was 
never  known  to  resent  an  mjury,  she  never  couid  forget  the  smallest 
kindness  shown  herself  or  the  Sisters,  or,  through  them,  to  the 
poor.  Centuries  ago  Seneca,  in  his  book  On  Benefits,  reiterated 
what  was  even  then  an  old  complaint  about  the  ingratitude  of 
man  ;  yet  we  believe  that  those  who  know  how  to  confer  favors 
will  find  gratitude  on  the  part  of  recipients  to  be  the  rule  rather 
than  the  exception.  Some  confer  a  favor  to-day  and  inQict  an  in- 
jury to-morrow,  yet  are  absurd  enough  to  expect  all  gratitude  and 
no  resentment  from  the  receiver  of  a  round  of  benefits  and  insults. 
Some  "  do  nothing  more  than  is  appointed  them,"  and  yet  imagine 
that  the  mere  fulfilling  of  their  obligations  entitles  them  to  the 
lasting  gratitude  of  all  with  whom  they  come  in  contact.  There 
are,  to  be  sure,  terrific  instances  of  real  ingratitude  recorded  in  hia- 
tory.  A,  tyrannical  king  orders  the  arrest  of  a  dying  eccleeLstic, 
who,  with  keen  remorse  and  bitter  eloquence,  regrets  that  ho  had 
served  that  monarch  far  better  than  he  had  served  his  God.  The 
profound  philosopher,  Bacon,  uses  his  talent  to  vilify  the  memory 

•  For  inatuuoe,  Dr.  Plunkctt,  wlioao  cniidnot  towards  Iiih  poor  tcnonts  would 
disgrace  a  Turk,  but  is  porfoctly  iuoomproliensiblo  in  any  peraoa  who  reads  the 
Bible,  much  less  n  man  whom  the  law  dubs  au  Arohblthop. 


iu 


LIFE  OF  CATHERIITE  MOAULET. 


of  his  munificent  benefactor,  the  unfortunate  Essex.  An  English 
princess,  whose  memory  is  ptili  revered  in  her  country,  calumniates 
and  deserts  the  unhappy  monarch  in  whom  she,  at  least,  found  an 
indulgent  father  and  a  lenient  sovereign.  But  in  common,  every- 
ony  life,  we  do  believe  that  those  who  know  how  to  confer  beneGta 
without,  as  the  phrase  is,  "  taking  the  good  out  of  them,"  will  often 
be  surprised  to  find  how  capable  the  most  boorish  and  stolid  are  of 
appreciating  small  favors,  and  to  such  as  complain  of  Ingratitude, 
they  will  be  able  to  answer  in  those  lines  which  Fabei'  well  calls 
"  exquisite  :" 

"  I've  heard  of  heftrts  unkind,  kind  deeds 

Wltli  coldnesB  still  returning:  '" 

Alaa  !  Uu  ^jTratitudo  of  men 
Hath  oflcucr  left  me  mourning." 

Persons  peculiarly  capable  of  appreciating  kindness  are  generally 
peculiarly  sensitive  to  unkindness  ;  but  of  the  latter  quality,  Rev- 
erend Mother  never  gave  any  exterior  evidence.  Gratitude,  in  the 
highest  degree,  had  a  home  iu  her  beautiful  soul.  The  least  favor 
done  her  was  never  forgotten  ;  the  smallest  kindness  shown  her 
children  was  a  title  to  her  friendship.  If  any  one  aids  her  Insti- 
tute, he  is  forthwith  esteemed  a  benefactor ;  every  Sister  must 
learn  to  revere  his  name  ;  whatever  favor  he  asks  must  be  granted ; 
and,  while  there  is  a  convent  of  her  Order  on  tarth,  he  must  be 
publicly  prayed  for.  Bishop  Blake  was,  perhaps,  the  chief  among 
her  benefactors  :  he  can,  therefore,  command  her  and  her  Insti- 
tute ;  ho  may  send  to  St.  Mary's  as  many  portionless  ladies  as  he 
chooses  ;  and,  do  matter  liow  the  exchequer  stands,  no  one  recom- 
mended by  the  Bishop  of  Dromorc  will  ever  be  dismissed  for  want 
of  funds.  The  same  prolate  expresses  a  wish  to  sec  the  English 
Bisters,  and  she  immediately  starts  with  them  for  the  north,  though 

the  had  Kcarcely  any  business  in  Newry  but  to  oblige  him,  and  had 
nst  boon  complaining  that  she  "  hud  got  a  surfeit  of  travelling  in 
icr  old  days."  Very  Rev.  James  Maher  hud  shown  some  kindness 
0  the  Slaters  in  Garlow.  Sho  wutcs  repeatedly  to  thank  hira; 
and,  when  ho  comes  to  St.  Mary's,  sho  prepares  his  meals  hcnelf, 
at  the  risk  of  injuring  her  broken  arm.  If  any  person,  in  the  re- 
mi  test  coruer  of  the  four  proviuces,  doco  a  favor  to  the  Sisters  of 


^: 


,1.1  W.I    i  Y 


!X.    An  Bnglisb 
ntry,  calumniates 
it  least,  found  au 
1  common,  everj- 
to  confer  benefits 
f  them,"  will  jften 
1  and  stolid  are  of 
lin  of  ingratitude, 
h  Fabei'  well  callB 

eds 


odness  are  generally 
latter  quality,  R«t- 
Gratitude,  in  the 
ul.    The  least  favor 
[kindness  shown  her 
y  one  aids  her  Insti- 
;  every  Sister  must 
ks  must  be  granted; 
)n  tarth,  he  must  be 
ips,  the  chief  among 
her  and  her  Insti- 
rtionless  ladies  as  he 
tands,  no  one  recom- 
)e  dismissed  for  want 
„  to  sec  the  English 
for  the  north,  though 
oblige  him,  and  had 
irfcit  of  travelling  in 
shown  some  kindness 
itedly  to  thank  him ; 
ires  his  meals  hcvFolf, 
nuy  person,  In  the  re- 
[avor  to  the  Sisters  of 


LIFE  OP  CA'jKEKINE  MCAULET. 


86ft 


Mercy,  or  even  speaks  kindly  of  their  Institute,  it  mnst  be  noted 
in  the  Annals,  and  all  tho  future  generations  cf  the  Order  must 
testify  gratitude  by  daily  prayers  for  the  benefactor*  But, 
when  injuries  were  inflicted  on  her  or  hers,  even  by  those  to 
whom  she  had  shown  substantial  kin(  ss,  she  never  evinced  the 
least  resentment.  She  was  not  below  revenge — and  revenge  is  a 
common  thing,  even  among  people  who  call  themselves  good — the 
law  of  retaliation  is  the  most  universal  of  all  laws  ;  but  she  was 
far  above  revenge,  for  she  strove  to  imitate  Ilm  who  excused  and 
prayed  for  His  murderers.  If  her  enemy  was  hungry,  she  gave 
him  to  eat ;  if  thirsty,  she  gave  him  to  drink  ;  if  she  could  do 
nothing  else,  she  was  ever  ready  to  exclaim,  "  Father,  forgive 
them  !"  These  were  the  coals  of  fire  she  heaped  on  the  heads  of 
such  as  misunderstanding  or  resentment  had  made  her  enemies. 
Whatever  she  did  she  never  looked  for  thanks  ;  and  she  frequently 
reminded  the  Sisters  that  tho  poor,  ignorant  creatures  whom  they 
assisted,  often,  and  reasonably,  as  it  seems  to  them,  think  that 
much  more  ought  to  be  done  for  them  ;  and,  if  they  show  ingrati- 
tude, they  must  uot  be  blamed,  since  He  whom  we  profess  to  serve 
in  them  will,  on  the  judgment-day,  reward  a  cup  of  cold  water 
given  in  His  name.  "It  is  for  Him  we  serve  them,  uot  for 
thanks,"  she  would  say.  Perhaps  she  thouclit  gratitude  too  great 
a  payment  for  benefits  ;  for  certainly,  it  comes  nearest  of  nil  things 

*  In  several  of  hor  letters  bIio  mentions  tlie  kimlneRscs  done  to  tlio  Order  in 
vnrious  plnccH,  und  seema  I'enrful  lexl  the  SititerH  bIiouM  furget  tliem,  or  not  ii|>- 
prccinto  them  as  they  de»ervo,  or  toko  them  as  a  matter  of  course,  nnd  neglect 
to/t4  iind  ihoiv  grKliltulo  for  them.  Tliis  was  pnrtioulnrly  the  case  when  prlcBts 
were  the  benefactors,  for  Hha  regarded  them  not  only  na  the  instruments  of  the 
grentCRt  blessings  to  nil  ChriBtians,  but  also  as  protectors  to  tho  Institute,  with- 
out wliOBO  patronage  nnd  nssistnnco  it  could  accomplish  but  little.  Ilenoo,  she 
taught  the  Sisters  to  regard  it  not  as  n  task,  but  as  a  privilege,  to  bo  able  to  aid 
them  in  any  way.  Tho  deference  nnd  uffoction  nhe  evinced  towards  ecclesias- 
tics often  xurprised  the  Sinters.  It  nil  came  of  her  fnith,  and  hor  high  upprcoi- 
ation  of  the  grcnt  dignity  of  tho  "  Anointed  of  the  Lord."  If,  when  engaged 
witli  the  higliest  personngcs  of  the  tliree  kingdoms,  ns  she  ofti'n  wns,  she  was 
informed  tliat  a  priest  called,  no  nuitter  liow  young  or  how  olifcuie  lie  might 
he,  even  U' he  only  cnlled  to  pny  a  visit  of  coiemony,  she  instantly  lell  lier  oom- 
pHiiy  to  icocive  him.  "  rricstB,"  she  would  say,  "are  tho  m>..tt  speeial  rcpre- 
BentftilvuB  of  our  Lord  ;  and  if  wo  do  not  treat  them  as  suoh— wo  who  havu 
boon  80  well  instructed  us  to  their  exulted  ofllco— who  will  I" 


:. 


i^aniMnnM** 


866 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


to  cancel  the  greatest  obligations,  and  repay  the  benefactor  a  thon- 
Bandfold,  and  she  did  not  desire  to  receive  so  large  a  re'mrd  in  this 

world. 

But,  if  she  were  grateful  to  man,  as  the  channel  of  many  favors 
to  her,'  much  more  was  she  grateful  to  God,  the  Adorable  Source 
whence  every  good  proceeds.  Gratitude  to  God  for  being  made 
the  instrument  of  many  blessings  to  her  suffering  fellow-creatures, 
is  the  chief  sentiment  which  her  wonderful  succrss  excited  within 
her.  And  though  her  friend,  the  venerable  Archdeacon  of  Lint 
erick,  describes  her  as  having  become,  during  the  last  years  of  her 
life,  "  the  centre  of  attraction  to  the  high  and  titled  of  the  three 
kingdom's,"  yet,  so  far  as  can  be  judged  from  her  acts,  her  conver- 
sations, and  her  letters,  she  does  not  seem  to  have  experien.jed  a 
single  emotion  of  vainglory,  or  even  of  self-complacency.  On 
hearing  of  the  prosperity  of  the  Limerick  Convent,  she  writeu  to 
the  Superioress : 

"  God  grant  you  lively  gratitude  and  profound  humility.  Then, 
indeed,  you  will  be  a  child  of  Benediction. ' 

Gratitude  and  humility  for  being  permitted  to  assist  Jesus 
Christ  in  His  suffering  members,  are  the  principal  scntimenta 
wlich  she  thought  success  ought  to  awaken  in  the  heart^i  of  her 
children. 


'% 


mi 


lY. 


benefactor  a  thoo- 
e  a  re'vard  in  this 

»el  of  many  favors 
}  Adorable  Source 
od  for  being  made 
ig  fellow-creatures, 
!rs8  excited  withiu 
•chdeacon  of  Lint 
e  last  years  of  her 
titled  of  the  three 
3r  acts,  her  conver- 
have  experienced  a 
complacency.     On 
nvent,  she  writC'J  to 

id  humility.    Then, 

ted  to  assist  Jesus 
)nncipal  acntiments 
the  hearti  of  her 


r 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Oalwny.— "A  Becoud  Mary  Teresa."— The  English  Sisters.— The  Laundry. — 
Dr.  6ri£Stli8  entreats  more  aid  for  Bermondsoy. — Reception  of  the  Sistera  for 
the  Birrainf^ham  Foundation.— Eeception  in  Gnlwav.— Pifflcultiex. — Very 
Kev.  Peter  Daly. 

THE  Institute  was  now  firmly  established  in  Leinster  and  Mun- 
ster  ;  the  London  house  was  flourishing.  The  next  successful 
applicant  for  a  foundation  was  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Browne,  better 
known  as  "  th  '^ove  of  Elpbia,"  who  commissioned  Very  Rev, 
Mr.  Daly  to  negotiate  the  business,  and  informed  the  Foundress 
that  there  were  several  ladies  in  his  diocese  awaking  the  opening 
of  the  Qahvay  convent,  to  devote  themselves  to  God  and  the  poor 
as  Sisters  of  Mercy. 

Few  cities  in  Ireland  are  better  known  out  of  it  than  the  an- 
cient, half-Spanish-looking  Galway,  which  boldly  faces  the  Atlan- 
tic, and  seems  to  invite  to  its  cnpacions  harbor  the  ships  of  many 
a  nation.  Among  its  primitive-looking  inhabitants,  fiery  black 
eyes  and  rich  brown  complexions  still  verify  the  opinion  that,  when 
tlie  ships  of  Lisbon  and  Cadiz  thronged  its  port,  they  left  a  por- 
tion of  their  crews  bchmd.  One  advantage  which  these  hardy 
westerners  quietly  arrogate  to  themselves  is,  that  Connaught  in 
general,  and  Galway  in  particular,  can  boast  of  the  best  blood  in 
Ireland.  Seeing  that  we  are  all  descended  in  a  direct  line  from 
Adam,  it  is  unnecessary  to  dispute  the  cl'  ims  of  "  the  Tribes," 
which,  to  say  the  truth,  have  a  sort  of  foundation.  In  times  of 
persecution,  the  cities  of  Connaught  were  often  cities  of  refuge  for 
other  parts  of  Ireland  ;  and  the  Catholic  faith  flourished  in  them 
when  it  seemed  extinct  in  more  important  places.  Besides,  Crom- 
well, ill  Ills  more  merciful  moods,  used  to  allow  "  innocent  Papists" 
the  privilege  of  choosing  between — the  lower  regions  and  Oon- 


; 


«■ 


868 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCADLET. 


Ml 


naught ;  and  thus,  through  the  kindness  or  the  policy  of  the  amia- 
ble "  Protector,"  who  "  liked  the  sport"  of  sliughtering  women 
and  children,  some  of  the  old  historic  families  of  Ireland  were 
saved  from  utter  extinction  by  migrating  westwr^rd.  The  estated 
gentlemen  of  Connaught  are  generally  Catholics,  while  in  other 
parts  of  Ireland  this  ckss  is,  to  a  great  ext-jnt,  represented  by 
Protestants  of  some  denomination  or  other.  These  particulars 
will  account  for  the  "Galway  consequence"  which  gave  the 
Foundress  some  trouble,  and  for  which,  with  her  usual  sagacity, 
she  made  ample  allowance.  "  Every  place  has  its  peculiarities," 
said  she,  "  and  to  these  we  must  concede  as  much  as  we  possibly 
can."  The  Superior  she  appointed  for  the  Galway  house  was  of  a 
high  family,  though  not  a  very  rich  one  ;  but  "  gentle  blood"  was 
the  main  point  here.  Yet,  to  be  candid,  the  vulgar  aristocracy  of 
wealth  was  more  rare  in  the  "  City  of  the  Tribes."  than  the  aris- 
tocracy of  birth  or  intellect.  There  were  already  six  Convents  in 
Galway  ;  it  would  not  be  easy  to  maintain  a  seventh,  which,  as 
professing  to  perform  the  works  of  Mercy,  required  some  public 
support.  Reverend  Mother  undertook  the  business  with  her  usual 
reliance  on  Divine  Providence,  and  the  event  more  than  jastified 
her  expectations. 

In  May,  1840,  this  foundation  set  out,  accompanied  by  Very 
Rev.  Father  O'Hanlon.  The  Carmelites  of  Loughrea  extended 
their  hospitality  to  the  travellers,  and  with  them  they  rested  one 
night.  The  Priory  of  Loughrea  is  the  only  one  in  Ireland  in  which 
the  succession  of  Priors  was  never  interrupted.  In  the  darkest 
days  of  persecution,  the  Carmelite  Fathers — whose  ranks  were  most- 
ly recuited  from  Spanish  novitiates,  by  Irish  members  returning  to 
their  native  land  ready  for  martyrdom — contrived  to  live  on,  in 
dens  and  caverns,  till  peace  came,  when  they  emerged  from  their 
obscurity.  This  is,  we  believe,  the  only  monastic  institution  in 
Ireland  whose  origin  dates  beyond  the  Ilotbrraation,  or,  at  least, 
which  escaped  temporary  suppression.  TbiJ  Carmelite  Nuns  of 
Loughrea  are,  however,  of  more  recent  establishment.  It  was  not 
wonderful  that  Father  O'Hanlon  glowed  with  enthusiasm  while 
visiting  this  sacred  spot,  so  many  centuries  in  possession  of  Coi  - 
fessors  of  his  illustrious  Ordef,  who  chose  to  starve  and  die  in 


[niiri'i  THiiilM 


T. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULEY. 


869 


olicy  of  the  amia- 
ughtering  womea 

of  Ireland  were 
,rd.  The  estated 
cs,  while  in  other 
nt,  represented  by 
These  particulars 

which  gave  the 
er  usual  sagacity, 

its  peculiarities," 
ach  as  we  possibly 
my  house  was  of  a 
'  gentle  blood"  was 
Igar  aristocracy  of 
!S.'»  than  the  aris- 
dy  six  Convents  in 

seventh,  which,  as 
juired  some  public 
ness  with  her  usual 
nore  than  justified 

ompanied  by  Very 
oughrea  extended 
m  they  rested  one 
in  Ireland  in  which 
In  the  darkest 
se  ranks  were  most- 
umbers  returning  to 
ived  to  live  on,  in 
merged  from  their 
astic  institution  in 
lation,  or,  at  least, 
Carmelite  Nuns  of 

incnt.     It  was  not 
enthusiasm  while 

jossession  of  Coj  - 
starve  and  die  in 


crypts  and  caves  rather  than  quit  the  hallowed  ruins  of  their  an- 
cient monastery. 

In  Gahvay  Mother  McAuley  met  her  "dear  friend,  Fanny 
Tighe,"  but  we  have  already  alluded  to  this  meeting. 

The  following  letters  from  Galway  contain  '•^any  varieties  of 
news  : 

"  I  was  so  hurried  and  so  cross  preparing  for  this  foundation, 
that  I  was  obliged  to  put  off  writing  to  you.  Five  English  sis- 
ters entering — the  bazaar — my  poor  little  sister  Mary  carried  down 
from  her  bed,  to  be  removed  to  Booterstown — Sister  M.  Teresa 
very  ill — so  much  in  every  direction  to  press  upon  my  miud,  that  I 
became  quite  weary.  Sister  M.  Josejhine  sent  me  some  turkey- 
eggs,  with  a  note,  saying  :  '  I  send  you  some  of  your  favorite  eggs.' 
I  do  not  remember  ever  speaking  about  them  ;  but  of  course  I 
did  ;  and  it  was  so  very  kind  of  her  to  keep  it  in  remembrance,  that 
I  wrote  a  few  lines  to  thank  her,  but  so  badly,  that  it  was  distress- 
ing to  me  to  forward  them.  If  possible,  I  would  have  written  to 
your  poor  brother's  widow,  but  in  real  truth  I  was  not  able.  I 
trust  God  will  protect  his  family,  and  extend  to  him  that  mercy  in 
which  he  delights. 

"  We  like  the  Bishop  here  very  much.  "We  have  a  very  large 
house  not  yet  in  conventual  order.  Sisters  are  entering  sooner 
than  I  expected  ;  we  have  now  four  postulants.  One,  a  very  nice 
person,  somewhat  stricken  in  years — good  means,  and  great  Galway 
consequence.  Miss  Joyce  is  coming,  a  sweet  little  creature,  very 
pretty,  about  twenty.  Her  papa  and  mamma  are  making  a  tour  ; 
but  she  could  not  be  induced  to  g'^.  I  scarcely  know  what  I  am 
writing,  with  the  noise  of  carpenters  and  painters.  You  may  be 
sure  patronage  is  greatly  divided  here— each  house  has  its  party — 
Presentation,  Dominican,  Augustiniai,  Franciscan,  Ursulines,  and 
now,  Sisters  of  Mercy.  The  Ursulinos  are  said  to  enjoy  most  of 
episcopal  patronage,  but  Bishoo  Brc>wne  has  love  and  charity 
enough  for  thousands,  and  embraces  all  with  genuine  paternal  care 
and  apostolic  aflfection. 

"  I  am  now  in  the  kitchen,  the  room  1  ^as  in  is  being  painted. 
I  feel  the  turf  smoke  I  This  is  a  pious  Catholic  tovin.  There 
would  be  fifteeu  in  the  convent  in  six  mouths,  if  three  hundred 

16* 


F**"!*" 


■JETOiii. 


^immmm 


Jtm 


370 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


i 


wm  i 


pounds  could  be  accepted  ;  but  the  poor  funds  will  not  admit  of 
this.  Three  of  our  candidates  have  merely  enough- -another  has 
forty-seven  pounds  a  year,  and  five  hundred  to  bequeath, — this 
latter  has  fully  arrived  at  the  eleventh  hour.  Our  Order  is  greatly 
liked  ;  but  there  is  really  no  money  to  spare  among  the  people.  A 
very  nice  person,  daughter  to  an  estated  gentleman,  is  coming  ; 
and  with  all  the  influence  of  Bishop  and  priests — and  they  possess 
much — more  than  five  hundred  pounds  cannot  ^e  obtained — he 
would  not  give  six.  The  generality  of  respectable  inhabitants, 
could  not,  we  are  assured,  give  more. 

"  The  Bishop  is  all  sweetness  to  every  one.  Very  llev.  Mr.  Daly 
is  guardian.  He  says  he  docs  not  see  any  more  who  could  bring 
what  is  absolutely  required,  five  or  six  hundred  pounds. 

"  I  feel  very  much  for  your  poor  sister-in-law  ;  but  I  should  fear 
much  your  taking  her  child.  These  engagements  were  never  de- 
signed for  our  state  :  and  whatever  is  contrary  to  it,  or  not  abso- 
lutely belonging  to  it,  will  ever  create  agitation  of  mind.  God 
will  assist  such  a  good  mother — not  one  of  her  children  will  be 
lost.  The  English  Catholics  are  rich.  It  is  only  in  Ireland  pros- 
elytism  of  that  nature  need  be  dreaded. 

"  Our  English  Sisters  are  greatly  liked.  One,  Miss  Beckett,  a 
convert  of  high  family,  is  quite  equal  to  Sister  M.  Clare  in  arts, 
sciences,  languages,  &c.  It  is  very  animating  to  see  six  persons 
most  happily  circumstanced,  leave  their  friends  and  country  to 
enter  on  a  mission  so  contrary  to  natural  inclinations ;  but  the  fire 
which  Christ  came  to  cast  upon  earth  is  kindling  very  fast. 

"  We  just  got  a  sweet  postulant,  a  second  Mary  Teresa  Mo- 
Auley  in  look  and  manner.  Her  family  are  going  to  travel ;  and 
though  she  would  have  seen  the  Pope  and  all  the  splendors  of  the 
Eternal  City,  she  entreated  to  be  left  at  home,  that  she  might  join 
ns  as  soon  as  possible.  Our  Bishop  could  not  be  kinder  ;  a!id  ns 
for  Father  Daly,  we  all  love  him.  He  is  delighted  with  being  con- 
stantly called  on,  and  proud  of  the  new  Sisters.  He  says  "  the 
root  has  struck,  and  he  feels  that  it  will  flourish." 

After  two  months'  stay  in  Galway,  Reverend  Mother  returned 
to  St.  Mary's,  having  left  the  new  foundation  "  with  every  pros- 
pect of  success."     In  the  spring  of  1840,  six  English  ladies  entered 


ET. 

will  not  admit  of 
ongh- -another  has 
to  beqneath, — this 
)ur  Order  is  greatly 
long  the  people.  A 
tleman,  is  coming  ; 
s— aud  they  possess 
Dt  'le  obtained — ^he 
Kjctable  inhabitants, 

Very  llcv.  Mr.  Daly 
ji-e  who  could  bring 
i  pounds. 

w  ;  but  I  should  fear 
lents  were  never  de- 
ry  to  it,  or  not  abao- 
ation  of  mind.  God 
f  her  children  will  be 
only  in  Ireland  pros- 

Dne,  Miss  Beckett,  a 
ter  M.  Clare  in  arts, 
ig  to  see  six  persons 
iends  and  country  to 
inatious ;  but  the  fire 
ling  very  fast. 
)nd  Mary  Teresa  Mo- 
going  to  travel ;  and 
I  the  splendors  of  the 
le,  that  she  might  join 
ot  be  kinder  ;  and  as 
lighted  with  being  con- 
isters.    He  says  "  the 
rish." 

rend  Mother  returned 
tion  "  with  every  pros- 
English  ladies  entered 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET, 


sn 


to  make  a  novitiate  pn^vious  to  opening  the  Institute  in  Birming- 
ham.    Mother  McAnley  thus  comprehensively  glances  at  them  : 

"The  English  Sisters  are  most  interesting,  and  manifest,  so  far, 
every  mark  of  a  true  vocation  to  the  Institute.    They  arc  so  play 

ful,  that  they  afford  amusement  to  all  at  recreation.     Miss  E , 

who  came  while  I  was  in  Galway,  is  a  sweet  creature,  quite  re- 
fined, simple,  and  interesting.  Sister  Marianne,  a  prime  pet  with 
Mother  Cecilia  (though  this  is  not  to  be  seen  by  every  eye),  is  very 
gentle,  and  all  that  is  desirable.  Sister  Juliana  is  quite  satisfac- 
tory— all  her  doubts  and  fears  have  passed  away.  Sister  Anna  is 
very  amiable,  though,  from  a  natural  disposition  to  silence,  not  so 
pleasing  as  the  others.  Sister  Lucy  greatly  improved — not  nearly 
so  much  of  the  wild  English  girl.  Their  Mother,  M.  Cecilia,  is  in 
better  spirits  than  ever  I  saw  her  ;  her  laugh  at  recreation  is  fully 
equal  to  our  dear  little  Catherine's.  It  seems  so  extraordinary  to 
find  no  vacant  seat  in  the  refectory,  after  all  the  dear  Sisters  wo 
liave  parted  in  life  and  death." 

To  repeated  inquiries  as  to  her  health,  which  was  now  quite 
shattered,  she  pleasantly  replies  : 

"  I  have  a  real  old  man's  cough — old  woman  is  entirely  exploded 
from  the  fashionable  vocabulary,  no  such  chara-cter  is  to  be  recog- 
nized in  future.  I  hope,  however,  that  my  old  man's  cough  will 
not  impede  my  journey  westward  in  September,  as  I  look  forward 
with  joyful  expectation  to  seeing  you  all  once  more." 

Then  she  turns  to  the  other  invalids,  all  of  whom  survived  her  : 
"  Sister  M.  Aloysia  is  exceedingly  thin,  pale,  and  weak  ;  she  has 
no  cough  or  any  ether  alarming  symptom.  Sister  M.  Austin  is 
quite  delicate,  with  a  prospoct  of  recovery.  Our  poor,  indefati- 
gable Sister  Teresa*  is  in  the  same  state — teeth  discolored,  bad 
rest,  scarcely  any  appetite — whole  countenance  expressive  of  some 
vital  part  being  nfiTected,  yet  doing  more  than  ever  for  the  Institute, 
She  clings  to  her  charitable  employment,  and  every  action  of  hers 
seems  to  be  followed  by  a  blessing.  She  is  most  patient  and 
amiable  every  way." 

This  year  Mother  McAuley  realized  a  project  she  hai\  much  at 


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LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


■  . 


li.iuiHI   ,j 
l:Ji  s!l 


heart — the  bailding  of  a  public  lanndry  in  connection  with  the 
House  of  Mercy.  "  Through  the  providence  of  God  and  the  liind* 
ness  of  Father  O'Hanlon,"  she  writes,  "  we  haie  got  a  legacy 
nearly  equal  to  the  amount."  She  was  also  enabled  to  build  an 
addition  to  the  House  of  Mercy.  Speaking  of  the  laundry,  she 
says  : 

"  Sister  Agatha  head  laundress  (all  the  Lay  Sisters  are  very 
good).  The  expense  of  coal  is  great — a  ton  a  week — soap,  &c. 
These  things  take  time.  The  work  should  be  great  that  would 
leave  a  surplus  after  this  ;  but  fire  will  not  cost  more  when  the 
work  is  much  increased,  as  the  hot  closet  must  be  prepared  in  the 
same  manner  for  a  small  as  for  a  large  quantity." 

In  June,  1840,  Bishop  Murphy,  '  f  Cork,  wrote  to  Sister  M. 
Clare,  whom  he  had  loaned  to  Bermondsey,  stating  that  he  would 
go  to  Loudon  for  her  in  August.  Bishop  GrifiSfths  learning  this, 
sent  an  urgent  appeal  to  Dr.  Murphy,  entreatmg  that  he  would 
permit  her  to  remain  a  little  longer.  "  Let  their  Lordships  set- 
tle it  between  them,"  wrote  the  temporary  Superioress  ;  "  I  feel 
no  anxiety."  Their  Lordships  did  "  settle  it  between  them,"  but 
not  to  the  satisfaction  of  Reverend  Mother,  who,  on  hearing  their 
decision,  wrote  : 

"  If  I  had  it  as  I  wished,  I  would  not  have  left  her  in  Loudon 
after  myself,  since  she  was  not  to  remain.  A  change  hereafter 
will  be  dangerous — she  has  already  been  left  there  too  long — bat 
it  will  be  a  lesson  for  other  foundations.  God  will  direct  all  to 
His  greater  glory." 

Tbis  prediction  was  verified.  When  the  change  was  made,  it 
proved  dangerous  indeed  ;  but  had  Bev.  Mother's  advice  been 
acted  on,  the  young  Order  had  beon  spared  much  anxiety  and  some 
trouble.  So  far  was  Dr.  Griffiftbs  from  consentmg  to  Mother 
Clare's  removal  when  "  the  little  while"  was  over,  that  ho  wrote  to 
Ireland  for  more  Sisters,  as  the  Foundress  thus  mentions  : 

"  I  had  a  most  interesting  letter  from  the  Bishop  of  London, 
askiuff  for  two  professed  Sisters  to  forward  some  views  which  he 
docs  not  fully  explain.  I  suspect  they  design  to  open  another 
house  in  I  ondon,  in  a  more  central  situation  than  Bermondsey^ 
though  this  has  not  been,  unequivocally  etajtod  to  me.    However, 


ET. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


373 


aaection  with  the 
God  and  the  kind" 
laie  got  a  legacy 
abled  to  buUd  att 
,f  the  laundry,  she 

ly  Sisters  are  very 
a  week— soap,  &c. 
•  great  that  would 
3st  more  when  the 
be  prepared  in  the 

ivrote  to  Sister  M. 
,ting  that  he  would 
[fifths  learning  this, 
iting  that  he  would 
their  Lordships  set- 
uperioress  ;  "  I  feel 
between  them,"  but 
^ho,  on  hearing  their 

left  her  in  Loudon 
A  change  hereafter 
there  too  long— but 
(d  will  direct  all  to 

thange  was  made,  it 
[other's  advice  been 
ich  anxiety  and  some 
)n8enting  to  Mother 

',  that  he  wrote  to 

[b  mentions  : 

Bishop  of  London, 

)mo  viewB  which  he 

ign  to  open  another 

\a  than  Bermondsey, 

to  me.    However, 


he  asked  the  favor  so  mnch  in  the  name  of  Qod,  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  refuse,  though  most  distressing  to  comply.  Very  Rev. 
Drs.  Butler  and  Maddock  arrived  here  to  conduct  them  to  London. 
I  saw  my  poor  Sisters  M.  Xavier  and  de  Sales  on  board,  and 
though  the  cabin  was  full  of  high-toned  persons,  the  good  little 
stewardess  recognized  us  .it  once,  and  said  most  triumphantly  : 
'  This  is  the  Queen,  that  you  went  in  to  found  a  convent  in  Lon- 
don.' I  feci  quite  deserted  this  morniu<;.  May  God  bless  them, 
and  receive  the  offering  to  His  greater  glory." 

Whatever  the  projects  were  which  the  saintly  Bishop  enter- 
tained, they  had  to  be  laid  aside  for  the  present,  three  of  the  Ber- 
mondsey Sisters  having  caught  a  most  malignant  fever,  which 
proved  fatal  in  two  cases.  In  a  letter  dated  November,  1840,  the 
Foundress  says  : 

"  We  fancied  Sisters  M.  de  Sales  and  Xavier  were  going  for 
some  additional  good  work  ;  but  God  has  arrested  the  progress, 
no  doubt  to  give  us  a  greater  contempt  of  earthly  plans,  and  more 
animation  to  work  with  increased  fervor,  seeing  that  life  and  death 
are  so  closely,  so  intimately  united.  I  have  just  got  a  \hird  lettev 
from  my  poor  Sister  M.  CLre,  who  says  :  '  Picture  us  to  yourself 
going  to  the  vault  with  one  dear  Sister  on  Wednesday,  and  with 
another  on  the  Saturday  foUowirg.'  The  third  remains  in  a  very 
doubtful  state.  They  caught  this  malignant  fever  attending  a  poor 
family,  all  of  whom  have  recovered  I  My  poor  Sister  Clare  is  in 
deep  affliction  ;  she  says,  '  My  heart  is  gone.'  You  would  not 
know  her  writing. 

"  I  look  forward  now  to  their  greater  progress,  to  show  that 
'His  ways  are  not  like  onr  ways,  uor  His  thoughts  like  our 
thoughts.'  This  is  the  way  of  God's  providence.  All  will  go  on 
well,  to  show  that  what  we  consider  a  drawback  will  be  followed 
by  greater  progress.  My  poor  Sisters  Xavier  and  de  Sales  have 
been  of  the  greatest  assistance.  What  a  scene  of  sorrow  we  sent 
them  to  I" 

Sisters  M.  Ursula  O'Connor  and  M.  Scholastica  Borrougbs 
were  the  victims  of  this  fever.  Of  Sister  M.  Ursula,  the  authoress 
of  Geraldine,  then  Mother- Assistant  in  Bermondsey  Convent, 
wrote  to  the  friends  of  the  deceased  : 


tssmassma 


374 


lilFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


•'  Her  death  was  trinmpliant  in  faith,  hope,  and  charity.  A 
little  before  her  departure,  she  exclaimed :  'My  God,  Thou 
knowest  I  Lave  never  refused  Thee  any  tiling  :  call  me  now,  and 
receive  me  into  Thy  bosom.' " 

"  The  Community  in  heaven"  was  rapidly  increasing.  Sister  M. 
Burke,  in  the  Galway  Convent,  St.  Teresa's,  was  summoned  frouj 
the  Order  before  she  received  its  habit.  Determined  that  the  new 
branch  should  sustain  no  loss  by  her  demise,  she  bequeathed  her 
fortune  to  admit  a  Sister  in  her  place.  Six  Sisters  of  Mercy 
passed  from  earth  in  as  many  months,  of  the  year  1840. 

In  August,  this  year,  the  Sisters  destined  for  Birmingham  Con- 
vent received  the  holy  habit,  the  Archbishop  presiding.  "  I  felt 
exceedingly  anxious,"  wrote  Mother  McAuley,  "that  Dr.  Murray 
should  perform  this  ceremony,  in  order  to  make  the  most  pious  un- 
pression  on  their  minds.  His  grace,  who  is  greatly  engaged, 
named  the  8th  of  August.  We  must  come  out  of  retreat  for  that 
purpose,  and  will  joyfully  do  so,  since  he  assents.  He  looks  so 
heavenly  and  venerable  that  the  English  Sisters  will  never  forget 
him.  The  eff'"5t  wil'  be  most  valuable  to  them,  and  we  estoem  it 
so  great  a  favor  to  get  him  that  we  would  not  make  any  diffi- 
culty." The  beauty  of  the  immortal  spirit,  which  gives  expression 
to  the  human  face,  can  be  seen  only  by  its  Creator  ;  but  one  does 
not  often  meet  a  countenance  so  eloquent  of  every  virtue,  so  well 
adapted  to  confirm  in  the  beholder  the  reverence  u  high  and  sacred 
office  naturally  inspires,  as  wac  that  of  the  late  Archbishop  of 
Dublin  ;  and  even  this  accidental  circumstance  the  Foundress 
turns  to  account. 

In  September,  this  year,  she  assisted  at  a  Reception,  at  St. 
Teresa's,  Galway,  which  took  place  in  the  parish  church.  The 
whole  Community  attended,  the  carriages  of  the  parents  of  the 
ladies  to  be  received  having  been  kindly  placed  at  their  disposal. 
Sister  Christina  Joyce,  daughter  of  Walter  Joyce,  Esq.,  of  Mer- 
view,  and  Sister  Prances  Macdonald,  were  the  ladies  received  on 
that  occasion.  The  sermon  was  preached  by  the  "Apostle  of 
Temperance,"  a  great  friend  of  Reverend  Mother's.  "Father 
Theobald  Mathcw  has  become  quite  eloquent  since  last  I  heard 
him,"  slie  writes.    Yet,  his  reputation  as  a  preacher  being  estab- 


ET. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


SYS 


0,  and  charity.    A 

'My  God,  Thou 

:  call  me  now,  and 

;reasing.  Sister  M. 
ras  snmmoned  froui 
•mined  that  the  new 
she  bequeathed  her 
X  Sisters  of  Mercy 
jar  1840. 

or  Birmingham  Con- 
presiding.    "  I  felt 
,  "  that  Dr.  Murray 
:e  the  most  pious  im- 
is  greaily  engaged, 
t  of  retrtat  for  that 
lents.    He  looks  so 
ters  will  never  forget 
em,  and  we  estoem  it 
not  make  any  diflfi- 
■hich  gives  expression 
reator  ;  but  one  does 
every  virtue,  so  well 
ice  u  high  and  sacred 
late  Archbishop  of 
ance  the  Foundress 

a  Reception,  at  St. 
parish  church.    The 

the  parents  of  the 
ced  at  their  disposal. 
Joyce,  Esq.,  of  Mor- 
he  ladies  received  on 
by  the  "Apostle  of 

Mother's.  "  Father 
;nt  since  last  I  heard 

preacher  being  estab- 


lished previou?  to  1840,  she  must  have  heard  him  before  under  nii« 
favorable  auspices.  If  the  essence  of  eloquence  be  the  power  to 
pcrsuauii  or  convince,  then  was  the  Apostle  the  greatest  orator  of 
his  day.  Still,  his  extraordinary  success  was  due  rather  to  his  ex- 
treme kiudness  and  geniality  than  to  his  eloquence.  In  a  letter 
dated  October,  1840,  the  following  characteristic  passage  occurs  : 

"  The  few  Sisters  they  ha'  e  in  Gal  way  are  remarkably  nice. 
Father  Daly  visits  them  some  time  every  day.  He  objected  to  a 
very  nice  young  person,  to  whom  an  uncle  left  a  large  legacy,  be- 
cause she  had  been  for  a  few  months  in  a  respectable  millinery 
warehouse  1  He  said  the  Galway  people  would  find  out  any 
thing,  and  if  they  found  that  out,  it  would  cause  certain  injury  I 
He  had  charge  of  the  Presentation  Convent  for  twenty  years,  and 
is  quite  attentive  to  every  trifle.  He  is  most  generous,  but  has  not 
means  proportioned  to  his  undertakings,  and  is  always  engaged 
for  too  much."  Verily,  it  was  not  easy  to  supply  subjects  for  a 
place  where  genealogies  and  antecedents  were  matter  for  such 
warm  discussion ;  and  if  the  Fouo'^rcss  did  not  like  these  things 
"  carried  so  far  as — Cork,"  she  certainly  did  not  like  them  carried 
so  far  as — Galway.  Yet  she  always  conceded,  as  far  as  she  could, 
to  the  peculiarities  of  every  place,  while  she  showed  the  Sisters  that 
in  religion  virtue  was  the  only  real  aiistocracy,  the  chief  thing  valued. 

Shortly  after  her  return,  she  wrote  to  Mother  Teresa  White,  of 
Galway  : 

"  I  cannot  make  up  any  excuse  to  write  to  Father  Daly,  since 
you  say  he  is  as  kind  as  ever.  If  you  would  only  complain,  I 
could  then  alarm  him  by  saying  I  would  go  to  Galway  immediately, 
to  look  after  my  poor,  fatherless  children." 

Uuder  a  later  date,  she  writes  to  Mother  Catherine  Leahy  : 

"  I  am  delighted  to  find  you  aro  so  happy.  You  cannot  be  other- 
wise, while  the  spirit  of  your  vocation  animates  year  actions.  The 
daily'  review  and  interrogation  :  '  What  had  God  in  view  in  calhng 
me  to  ttiis  state  ?  Do  I  endeavor,  in  every  thought,  word,  and 
action,  to  correspond  with  his  intentions  in  ray  regard  ?'  These 
are  all  important.  As  I  am  certain  you  attend  to  them,  happiness 
must  await  you,  even  when  yci  have  many  charges  to  bring  against 
yourself." 


376 


LIFi:  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


The  rea'^^er  will  easily  perceive  that  the  animated  correspondence 
Rev.  Mother  kept  up  with  each  of  her  houses,  waa  a  heavy 
tax  on  her  time,  though  not  on  her  charity.  Her  children  after- 
wards confessed  that  they  had  shown  great  wane  of  consideration 
for  their  sainted  Mother,  whom  they  expected  to  give  them  a  de- 
tailed account  of  all  that  took  place  in  St.  Mary's,  and  even  to 
gratify  them  by  going  one  or  two  hundred  miles  out  of  her  way  to 
visit  them  ;  and  this  on  a  mail  coach  which  sped  through  the 
country  at  the  rate  of  four  or  five  miles  an  hour.  To  an  invitation 
to  partake  of  the  latter  recreation,  and  a  request  to  bring  such'and 
such  Sisters  with  her,  she  replied  :  "  I  received  your  welcome  let- 
ter, and  am  quite  amused  with  all  your  proposed  arrarigeme  its  for 
the  expected  visitors.  '  Man  proposes,' "  &c.,  &c.  Yet  she  who 
knew  how  to  make  herself  all  to  all,  and  who  'pleased  not  herself,' 
never  seemed  weary  of  the  affectionate  but  rather  distressing  im- 
portunities of  her  absent  children.  When  hindered  from  replying 
directly  to  their  notes,  she  politely  apologizes  ;  and  the  least  effort 
they  make  to  testify  their  affection,  she  immediately  acknowledges, 
eiud  strives  to  repay  by  prayers  and  thanks. 


t  i 


SVi^  -f~   'Ij   .-■  ■  - 
-■'tt  tin'    ^    .'!■'    -    - 


1./,  liUiM -mid  m<,  liMyt  m'''*^u*.'i  i(a>w«j«^ 


ed  correspondence 
es,  wan  a  heavy 
[fcr  children  aftcr- 
c  of  coneideratioQ 
0  give  them  a  de- 
ary's, and  even  to 
out  of  her  way  to 
sped  through  the 
To  an  invitation 
t  to  bring  such*and 
[  your  welcome  let- 
i  arrarigeme  its  for 
&c.    Yet  she  who 
pleased  not  herself,' 
ther  distressing  im- 
dercd  from  replying 
and  the  least  effort 
ately  acknowledges, 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

The  Apostle  of  Temperance  and  the  Sister  of  Mercy.— A  Howard  amonjr  th« 
Teetotalers.— Birr.— Worse  feuds  than  the  "  O'Cnrroll  Feuds."— The  Apostle's 
expedient.— The  Crottyites.— Mother  McAnley  on  the  progress  of  Tempe- 
rance.- Letters  from  Birr.— Conversion  of  Eov.  Mr.  Crotty.— "The  Bun 
shines  too  brightly"  for  the  Foundress. 

DURING  the  past  few  years.  Rev.  Mother  had  frequently  met 
and  corresponded  with  her  friend,  Very  Rev.  Theobald 
Mathew,  then  the  idol  of  the  people.  Besides  the  intrinsic  graces 
of  his  peculiar  "  Apostlcsaip,"  he  was  endowed  with  every  exterior 
gift  powerful  to  secure  respect  and  win  affection.  His  countenance 
was  eminently  handsome,  his  aspect  commanding,  his  carriage 
noble,  hi3  whole  presence  majestic  —  suavity  and  benevolence 
glowed  in  his  every  feature.  The  elegance  of  the  perfect  gentle- 
man, and  the  "  universal  blaniness  of  the  courtier,"  were  tempered 
by  the  solemn  dignity  of  the  Priest,  which  never  for  a  moment 
forsook  the  saintly  friar,  though  he  extended  the  hand  of  friend- 
ship to  the  beggar  and  the  lord,  and  was  emphatically  the  friend 
and  father  of  the  poor. 

Catherine  McAuley  and  Theobald  Mathew  had  much  in  com- 
mon. Enlarged  benevolence,  universal  sympathy,  utmost  tender- 
ness for  the  unfortunate,  and  almost  extravagant  kindness  to  the 
erring,  marked  the  dealings  of  both  with  their  fellow-creatures. 
Not  a  drop  of  gall  or  bitterness  was  found  in  either.  The  sweet- 
ness, mildness,  and  charity  of  Jesus  faintly,  yet  truly,  irradiated 
the  countenance  of  each.  They  were,  indeed,  kindred  spirits,  al- 
most too  bright  for  earth.  Perhaps  neither  ever  caused  the  shed- 
ding of  a  tear,  if  we  except  tears  of  gratitude  and  afifection.  They 
left  the  world  better  and  happier  than  they  found  it ;  and  what  a 
world  this  might  be,  if  there  were  many  such  I 

Mother  McAuley  noted  with  peculiar  delight  the  successes  of  her 


r?P" 


378 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


friend  in  bis  great  work  ;  and  she  always  considered  him  as  a  spoi 
cial  agent  in  the  bands  of  God,  Every  rank,  age,  and  sex  i  jckcd 
to  the  Apostle,  eager  to  receive  the  "  Pledge"  from  his  venerable 
hands.  The  Earl  of  Arundel  and  Surrey,  whose  ancestors  ruled  the 
fairest  portions  of  Europe,*  ages  before  the  royal  Houses  of  Tudor, 
Stuart,  or  Brunswick  were  heard  of,  knelt  with  a  crowd  of  la- 
borers before  the  Irish  Franciscan.  The  erudite  and  the  illiterate, 
priests  and  laymen.  Catholics,  Protestants,  and  Dissenters,  were 
among  his  cherished  disciples.  But  the  poor  were  the  class  most 
benefited  by  the  immense  boon  of  temperance.  No  longer  were 
bacchanalian  revellers,  haggard  wives,  and  wretched,  starving  chQ- 
dren,  found  among  those  whom  Jesus  specially  loves,  and  among 
whom  His  own  blessed  lot  on  earth  was  cast. 

Father  Mathew,  in  a  Temperance  mission  to  Birr,  in  1840,  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  particulars  of  an  affair  which  threatened 
serious  consequences.  This  little  town  is  situated  in  the  south- 
western extremity  of  King's  County,  not  far  from  Tipperary.  It 
is  much  visited  by  persons  curious  to  see  Lord  Rosse's  telescope, 
the  largest  optical  instrument  in  the  world,  which  is  erected  in 
Birr  Castle.  In  Irish  history  Birr  is  famous  for  "  the  O'Carroll 
feuds  ;"  but  the  feuds  which  distracted  it  some  thirty  years  ago 
acquired  it  a  more  unfortunate  celebrity.  Difficulties  between  its 
pastor  and  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Eillaloc,  which  resulted  in  open 
rebellion  on  the  part  of  the  former,  gave  rise  to  something  like  a 
schism,  for  many  joined  the  poor,  deluded  man  who  resisted  his 
lawful  superior.  Now,  it  had  always  been  the  proud  boast  of 
Ireland,  that  neither  heresy  nor  schism  originated  on  her  soil,  and 
that  no  native  of  Ireland,  at  home  or  abr^^ad,  ever  became  an  here- 
siarch  or  a  schismatic  ;t  and  this  boast  few  other  Catholic  conn- 


•  The  nobleman  here  referred  to  was  heir  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  The  How- 
ards reckon,  among  their  progenitors,  Charlemagne,  Alfred  the  Oreat,  St.  Mar- 
garet of  Scotlapd,  St.  Louia  of  France,  the  greatest  of  the  Plantagenets,  &o. 

t  Another  peonliarity  of  the  ancient  Irish  Cbnroh  is,  that  it  had  no  martyrs. 
The  few  commemorated  as  martyrs  in  the  calendar,  as  St.  Dynipna,  <&o.,  did 
not  receive  the  crown  of  martyrdom  in  their  native  land.  The  Normans,  re- 
proaching the  Irish  for  this  in  the  thirteenth  century.  Archbishop  O'llenoy,  of 
Cashel,  retorted — "  That  reproach  will  soon  be  taken  awny,  since  the  Mormans, 
who  know  so  well  how  to  makemut^rs,  are  come  into  oar  country."    Sinoe 


dered  him  as  a  spei 
ige,  and  sex  i  jckcd 
'  frovn  his  venerable 
B  ancestors  ruled  the 
^al  Houses  of  Tudor, 
vith  a  crowd  of  la- 
lite  and  the  illiterate, 
vnd  Dissenters,  were 
were  the  class  most 
>e.    No  longer  were 
retched,  starving  chil- 
illy  loves,  and  among 

to  Birr,  in  1840,  be- 
Efair  which  threatened 
ituated  in  the  south- 
•  from  Tipperary.    It 
ord  Rosse's  telescope, 
1,  which  is  erected  in 
IS  for  "  the  O'CarroU 
iome  thirty  years  ago 
Difficulties  between  its 
hich  resulted  in  open 
ic  to  something  like  a 
man  who  resisted  his 
the  proud  boast  of 
inated  on  her  soil,  and 
[,  ever  became  an  here- 
other  Catholic  coun- 


LIPE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


879 


_  J  of  Norfolk.   The  How- 
[Alfred  the  Great,  St.  Mar- 
If  the  Plantagenets,  &o. 
lis,  that  it  had  no  martyr*. 
[,  as  St.  Dympna,  &o.,  did 
land.    The  Normans,  re- 
Archbishop  O'Honey,  of 
i  owny,  since  the  Normans, 
into  oar  country."    Since 


tries,  if  any,  can  make.  When  Europe  teemed  with  Arians,  Wal- 
denses,  Albigenses,  or  Lollards— when  the  Refoiraation  produced 
an  English  Church  in  England,  a  Scotch  Church  in  Scotland,  no 
Irish  Church  started  up :  the  Irish  people  remained  as  they  are 
to-day,  almost  "  more  Roman  than  the  Romans  themselves."  No 
wonder,  then,  that  all  good  Catholics  grieved  when  something, 
ever  so  Tittle,  resembling  a  schism,  threatened  to  sully  a  small  frac- 
tion of  the  Church  in  Ireland,  after  fourteen  centuries  of  fidelity. 

The  breach  between  legitimate  and  self-constituted  authority 
became  daily  wider,  to  the  scandal  of  the  weak,  the  extinction  of 
charity,  and,  perhaps,  the  loss  of  souls.  Party  feeling  was  at  its 
height :  the  right  could  not,  and  the  wrong  would  not,  yield,  and 
there  was  but  one  man  in  Ireland  to  whom  both  sider^  would  listen, 
— that  man  was  the  genial  and  gentle  Apostle  of  Temperance. 
During  his  stay  in  Birr  he  became  fully  acquaintpH  "'ith  the  cvila 
Rev.  Mr.  Crotty  had  cansed:  and  besides  enrolling  thousands 
under  the  banner  of  temperance,  which  was  bis  chief  business,  he 
strenuously  labored  to  restore  unity  and  brotherly  love.  Few 
could  resist  hia  unfailing  kindness  ;  but  he  no  sooner  departed  than 
his  converts  relapsed.  Priests,  except  himself,  could  do  nothing  in 
the  business.  The  Crottyites  would  not  walk  on  the  same  side 
of  the  street  with  a  priest.  The  expedient  he  devised  proved  en- 
tirely successful.  He  thought  these  great,  rough  men,  who  openly 
defied  priest  and  bishop,  might  yield  to  the  gentler  ministrations 
of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy.  Accordingly,  he  opened  a  correspondence 
with  the  Foundress,  visited  her  several  times,  and  having  pleaded 
Lis  cause  with  his  wonted  eloquence,  obtained  a  promise  that  Birr 
would  be  her  next  foundation.  He  plainly  told  her  that  the  con- 
version of  the  incorrigibles  must  be  her  chief  inducement,  there 
being  as  yet  no  foundi^tion  fund  or  endowment  ofiTered  for  the  con- 
vent in  contemplation  ;  but  no  sooner  had  she  learned  that  the 
faith  of  the  poor  people  was  in  danger,  than  she  wrote  :  "  I  wordd 

tlio  Reformation,  however,  every  diocese,  town,  and  village,  and  almost  every 
family  can  point  out  its  martyrs.  Rov.  Mr.  Noligan,  in  his  "Suiutly  Charao- 
tors,"  says :  "  The  causes  of  several  holy  persons  who  died,  in  Ireland  for  tha 
faith,  during  the  ages  of  persecution  which  passed  over  that  land,  ever  faithful 
to  the  Mother  of  Ood  and  St.  Peter,  are  before  the  Congregation  of  Rites." 


'^^ 


980 


LIFE  OP  CATHKRINE  MCAULBT. 


like  to  remnin  in  Birr  as  one  stationary.  I  should  not  fear  begging 
my  bread."  Even  if  Baggot-strcct  bad  to  be  relinquished,  Birr 
was  sure  to  be  founded. 

Besides,  the  Apostle  was  an  active  friend  to  the  Order,  and  as 
snch  his  requests  were  commands.  When  he  and  the  Foundress 
met  in  their  widely  dissimilar  missions  of  mercy,  it  could  only  be  to 
aid  and  encourage  each  other.  Gladly  would  she  have  spent  the 
few  moliths  that  now  remained  to  her,  in  Bur — happy,  if  by  her  life, 
mnch  less  by  her  exertions,  she  could  repair  the  rent  the  enemy 
of  souls  was  making  in  Christ's  seamless  garment,  the  Church. 

"  Give  me,  for  Birr,"  wrote  the  Ap  jstle,  "  truly  spiritual  persons 
— souls  that  rely  entirely  on  God's  y  •ovidcnce."  Such  persons  she 
sojght  for  i;his  trying  mission.  She  always  sought  to  meet  the 
peculiarities  of  every  place  ;  and  seeing  that  Birr  almost  required 
a  sainl,  she  destined  for  it  the  most  saintly  member  then  in  the 
Order,  her  "  most  angelic  Sister  M.  Aloysia  Scott."  But  as  Sister 
M.  Aloysia  was  then  in  consumption,  Prayers  and  Masses  were 
offered  for  her  recovery  ;  and  as  she  soon  became  perfectly  well, 
Rev.  Mother  always  thought  Father  Mathew  had  wrought  a 
miracle  in  her  behalf.  "  We  are  ah  grieved,"  wrote  she,  "  to  part 
with  our  dear,  humble  and  saintly  Sister  M.  Aloysia ;"  but  as  she 
was  best  suited  to  the  arduous  task  of  reconverting  But,  she  must 
be  spared.  In  November,  1840,  the  Apostle  arrived  in  Dublin  on 
a  Temperance  mission,  and  also  to  make  conclusive  arrangements 
for  the  Birr  foundation.  Of  the  change  total  abstinence  had 
wrought  iu  a  few  months,  the  Foundress  speaks  thus  energetically : 

"The  publicans  are  in  terror  at  Father  Mathew's  approach. 
Another  visit,  they  say,  will  break  them.  What  an  agent  he  has 
been  in  the  hands  of  God  !  You  can  scarcely  form  an  idea  of  the 
moral  improvement  throughout  the  country.  We  passed  through 
populous  towns  on  fair-days  without  hearing  one  angry  voice — men, 
women,  and  children  well  drcss"d,  and  all  most  peaceable  and 
happy.  This  proves  what  the  special  grace  of  God  can  effect, 
though  bestowed  on  but  one  man,  yet  so  ns  to  go  forth  amongst 
millions  by  the  agency  of  his  touch.  Creatures  are  converted 
who  never  could  keep  a  promise  made  to  God  or  man,  and  who 
frequently  violated  the  most  solemn  oaths  when  intemperance  vat 


BT. 


.    LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


881 


d  not  fear  begging 
relinqmshed,  Birr 

the  Order,  and  aa 
ind  the  Foundress 
it  could  only  be  to 
she  have  spent  the 
lappy,  if  by  her  life, 
the  rent  the  enemy 
nt,  the  Church, 
aly  spiritual  persons 
'    Such  persons  she 
sought  to  meet  the 
Birr  almost  required 
member  then  in  the 
!ott."    But  as  Sister 
•rs  and  Masses  were 
>came  perfectly  well, 
icw  had  wrought  a 
wrote  she,  "  to  part 
loysia  ;"  but  as  she 
irting  Birr,  she  must 
arrived  in  Dublin  on 
elusive  arrangements 
otal  abstinence  had 
:s  thus  energetically : 
tfathew's  approach, 
lat  an  agent  he  has 
'orm  an  idea  of  the 
We  passed  through 
le  angry  voice — men, 
most  peaceable  and 
of  God  can  effect, 
,0  go  forth  amongst 
atures  are  converted 
od  or  man,  and  who 
len  intemperance  wa» 


J)  qnestlon.  Persons  of  strong  mind  and  good  education  hare 
never  given  evidence  of  greater  resolution  than  these  thousands  of 
weak,  ignorant,  obstinate  creatures  are  now  manifesting."* 

The  Irish  were  not  more  addicted  to  intoxication  than  their 
Scotch  and  English  neighbors  ;  but  if  there  were  only  a  dozen  in- 
ebriates on  the  island,  it  would  be  a  dozen  too  many.  There  is  no 
denying  that  this  odious  vice  made  dreadful  havoc  among  the 
poor,  particularly  in  large  cities.  None  knew  this  better  than 
Beverend  Mother.  Full  half  the  misery  which  it  had  been  her 
life-long  business  to  relieve,  was  the  result  of  intemperance.  Wher- 
ever this  vice  prevailed,  there  coexisted  nude,  wretched  children  and 
famished  wives,  whose  whole  appearance  bore  but  too  eloquent  tes- 
timony of  the  amiability  which  inebrial  e  chivalry  exercises  towards 
weak,  defenceless  women  and  children.  She  had  converted  Protest 
tants  and  bad  Catholics  by  hundreds — bhe  had  scarcely  ever  yet 
succeeded  in  thoroughly  reforming  a  drnn):ard.  No  wonder,  then, 
that  she  revered  the  man  who  had  changed  these  monsters  into 
good  fathers,  good  husbands,  and  peaceable  citizens.  "  What  an 
agent  he  has  been  in  the  hands  of  God  I"  she  exclaimed ;  and  well 
she  might,  for  "  no  man  could  do  these  works  unless  God  were 
with  him."  So  enthusiastic  a  supporter  was  she  of  the  cause  of 
temperance,  that  she  herself  received  "  the  pledge"  from  the  Apos- 
tle, and  wore  her  "  medal"  with  a  joy  which  the  Star  of  the  Garter 
or  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  could  not  excite.  On  her 
foundations,  when  passing  through  towns  in  which  no  convent  was 
situated,  the  clergy  of  the  place,  who  vrould  not  permit  h^r  to  go 
to  a  hotel,  always  entertained  her  in  a  manner  worthy  of  such  a 
guest.  If  wine  was  served  on  such  occasions,  the  friend  of  the 
Apostle  quietly  showed  her  "  Temperance  Medal." 

Perhaps  there  never  was  a  man  more  universally  loved  and  rey- 
erenced  than  Father  Mathew  ;  and,  indeed,  it  would  not  bo  easy 
to  imagine  one  better  calculated  to  inspire  those  sentiments.  He 
is  not  to  be  claimed  solely  by  Ireland,  his  native  land;  nor  by  Tip- 

*  In  Cork,  the  ApoHtle's  adopted  city,  the  whole  community  of  Christian 
BrotherB,  that  they  miglit  aid  tlio  caaae  with  bettor  effect  among  tlie  men, 
young  and  old,  whom  they  instructed,  joined  the  Total  Abstinence.  Engaged 
in  the  luboriouB  work  of  teaching,  they  willingly  relinquiBhed  a  privilege  they 


'*arT*»« 


ifrr 


88S 


LIFE  OP  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


perary,  among  whose  green  hills  he  passed  his  peaceful  boyhood  ; 
nor  by  Cork,  the  city  of  his  adoption,  where  his  tomb  is  visited  as 
a  shrine,  and  his  features  kept  fresh  in  the  memoiies  of  the  old, 
and  made  familiar  to  the  young,  in  the  almost  breathing  marble  of 
the  sculptor  ;* — Father  Mathew  belongs  to  the  human  race,  to  the 
whole  world  ;  and  our  nature  may  well  be  proud  of  him,  and  grate- 
ful to  the  Omnipotent  Father  of  all,  who  wrought  such  wonders  by 
His  servant,  and  so  well  fitted  that  servant  to  become  His  in- 
strument. 

Mother  McAuley,  in  the  following  extracts  which  we  make  from 
Bome  of  her  letters,  gives  some  particulars  of  the  Birr  Foundation, 
which  she  commenced  on  the  Feast  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist, 
December  21,  1840  : 

"  I  am  auxious  to  write  to  you  from  my  strange  habitation. 
How  many  new  beds  have  I  rested  in !  When  I  awake  in  the 
morning,  I  ark  myself  where  I  am  ;  and,  on  the  last  two  or  three 
Foundations,  I  could  not  recollect  for  some  moments.  This  is  a 
good  old  house,  delightfully  situated,  fields  and  garden  all  around 
it ;  it  must  be  particularly  healthy.  Sister  M.  Aloysia  is  remark- 
ably well.  I  firmly  believe  Father  Mathew  hcs  been  the  agent  in 
her  final  recovery,  he  prayed  so  much  for  the  Birr  Foundress.  We 
travelled  to  Tullamore  on  Saturday.  The  new  convent  is  a  beau- 
tiful edifice  I  had  no  idea  of  its  extent.  The  staircase  is  the 
finest  I  ever  saw  ;  the  community-room  larger  than  ours  ;  the 
infirmary  as  large — thirty  cells  ;  and  water  brought  through  the 
whole  house  by  conductors,  so  that  a  pipe  can  be  put  anywhere. 
The  school-rooms  are  very  fine,  and  connected  with  the  convent." 

"  At  Eglisb,  we  dined  with  our  dear  friend,  Father  Murtagh, 
the  parish  priest ;  our  own  priest.  Dr.  Spain,  the  Dean,  and  the 
Vicar-general,  came  to  meet  us.  We  had  a  teetotal  entertainment 
— coffee  served  immediately  after  dinner.    We  arrived  in  Birr 

could  hardly  abnso,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  adding  the  force  of  example  to  their 
instructions.  Men  lik".  these  are  the  real  philauthropiata.  They  do,  as  well  as 
teach. 

•  A  splendid  statue  of  Father  Mathew,  the  first  ever  erected  to  a  priest  in  the 
British  dominions,  adorns  Patrick-street,  Cork.  T!ie  citizens  do  well  to  per- 
petuate the  rejnembrance  of  the  physical  features  of  one  whose  virtues,  {  ablio 
and  private,  shed  such  lustre  on  their  city. 


ET. 


LirK  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


883 


peaceful  boybood ; 
tomb  is  visited  as 
raoiiea  of  the  old, 
)reathing  marble  of 
human  race,  to  the 
a  of  him,  and  grate- 
;ht  such  wonders  by 
to  become  His  in- 

rhicb  we  make  from 
[le  Birr  Foundation, 
ohn  the  Evangelist, 

'  straiigt;  habitation, 
hen  I  awake  in  the 
he  last  two  or  three 
moments.    This  is  a 
d  garden  all  around 
[.  Aloysia  is  remark- 
ics  been  the  agent  in 
[Birr  Foundress.  We 
w  convent  is  a  beau- 
The  staircase  is  the 
rger  than  ours  ;  the 
3rought  through  the 
:an  be  put  anywhere, 
with  the  convent." 
nd,  Father  Murtagh, 
1,  the  Dean,  and  the 
eetotal  entertainment 
We  arrived  in  Birr 

_  force  of  exomple  to  their 
ists.    They  do,  as  well  88 

erected  to  a  priest  in  the 

citizens  do  well  to  per- 

>no  whose  virtues,  lublio 


about  six,  said  our  prayers,  and  went  to  rest.  Next  day,  we  saw 
several  ladies — one  a  candidate,  a  Miss  Egan,  educated  at  Thurles 
Ursulinc  Convent. 

"  We  were  very  busy  all  day  Monday,  till  retreat  time,  when  we 
left  the  reception-rooms  and  lived  in  our  cells.  How  sweet,  how 
blessed  is  our  life,  which  affords  so  nmch  solid  consolation  and  en- 
joyment when  all  that  the  world  values  is  shut  out  from  us! 
Everywhere  I  thought  the  sun  was  shining  even  loo  mucL.  I  do 
not  think  any  one  in  the  midst  of  Christmas  festivities  was  so 
happy  as  we  were." 

"  Everywhere  I  thought  the  sun  was  shining  too  much."  This 
is  a  curious  passage.  Certainly,  she  cannot  mean  the  material  sun, 
whose  beams  could  scarce  be  too  brilliant  ou  a  dull  December  day. 
And  that  the  Eternal  Sun  of  Justice  should  irradiate  her  beautiful 
soul  with  His  light,  is  not  wonderful ;  but  that  such  an  acknowl- 
edgment should  escape  one  who  so  strongly  incj|ilcated  reserve  in 
speaking  of  .spiritual  favors,  is  strange  indeed.  There  is  not  a 
similar  passage  in  her  whole  correspondence.  "  Jesus  was  silent." 
This  was  the  daily  subject  of  her  meditations.  It  hushed  com- 
plaints when  they  rushed  to  her  lips ;  for  how  could  she  complain 
when  "  Jesus  was  silent  V  It  schooled  her  into  "  reserve"  as  to 
the  gifts  bestowed  on  her,  that  she  might  be  able  to  say,  "  My 
secret  to  myself."  Only  once  did  the  superabundance  of  celestial 
favors  throw  her  for  a  moment  off  her  guard  ;  and  then,  she,  who 
preferred  Calvary  to  Mount  Thabor,  complains  that  the  sun  shone 
too  brightly — too  brightly  for  the  light  of  an  exile,  too  brightly 
for  one  who  desired  to  be  included  in  the  happy  millions  of  whom 
Jesus  said  :  "  Blessed  are  they  who  believe  and  have  not  seen." 

Under  a  later  date,  she  resumes  her  lively  narra,  m : 

"  Sister  M.  Aloysia  was  up  before  five,  Now  Tear's  Day,  and 
did  not  get  her  breakfast  till  after  ten.  She  rises  at  half-past  five 
every  morning,  and  looks  remarkably  well.  After  Mass,  the 
Vicar  said  :  '  My  dear  people,  I  have  a  present  to  make  you.  I 
have  a  New  Year's  gift  to  bestow,  the  most  gratifying  a  pastor 
could  give.  I  present  to  you  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  who,  by  their 
example  and  pious  instruction,  will  draw  upon  our  town  the  bless- 
ings of  heaven.    I  recommend  them  to  your  respectful  attention, 


wim 


884 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOA0LEY. 


% 


and  I  beseech  God  to  bless  them  ^..d  you.'  We  had  great  langb- 
ing  about  this,  saying  that  he  might  have  tried  us  a  little  longer, 
and  not  made  a  present  of  us  so  soon.  We  got  a  separate  place 
in  the  church,  wliich  is  so  near  that  we  shall  not  require  bonnets 
and  cloaks. 

"  The  unfortunate  Mr.  Crotty  is  indefatigable  in  his  evil  works. 
He  is  joined  by  Mr.  Carlisle,  lately  a  commissioner  of  education. 
They  have  the  same  church,  and  preach  the  same  doctrine,  namely, 
that '  nothing  is  to  be  feared  but  Popery.'  This  speaks  well  for 
the  National  Board :  had  Mr.  Carlisle  found  it  likely  to  injure 
Catholicity,  he  would  not  abandon  it." 

"  Jan.  12,  1841. — We  are  getting  quite  at  home  here. 
Sister  M.  Aloysia  strong  and  lively.  Sister  Martha  a  real  treasure, 
and  our  postulant  useful  in  every  way,  quite  a  different  person  from 
what  she  was  in  Baggot-street,  Nothing  like  Fouudations  for 
rousing  ua  all.  Our  expected  Sister  is  really  in  aflSiction  at  not 
joinmg  us.  Her  father  does  not  refuse  consent,  but  says  he  must 
have  time  to  prepare  his  mind.  He  cried  here  on  Sunday,  I  fear 
she  must  make  a  runaway.  We  hear  of  other  postulants,  but 
rothing  near  a  close.  You  will  see  by  the  writing  that  I  can 
Bcarcelj  hold  the  pen.  I  feel  so  grateful  to  God  for  the  prosperity 
of  Wexford,  that,  if  we  should  not  get  a  postulant  for  a  month,  it 
would  not  cast  me  down.  I  never  saw  such  frost ;  the  cold  is  in- 
tense— every  place  covered  with  snow.  Sister  M.  Clare  says  they 
have  a  more  severe  winter  in  London  than  has  been  for  a  century. 
What  sailors  call  the  '  white  swan'  (a  cloud  of  snow  floating  in  the 
air),  has  been  seen  off  Winchester.  She  expects  two  Sisters 
immediately,  daughters  of  the  principal  merchants  in  Portugal. 
Dear  Sisters  Xavier  and  De  Sales  well — (Jl  well  in  Caggot-street. 
My  poor  James"*  has  rallied  a  little.  My  good,  affectionate 
Sister  M.  Genevieve  is  his  constant  nurse,  gives  all  her  day  to  him, 
and,  when  she  finds  it  necessary,  goes  again  in  the  evening.    She 


*  Her  nephew,  James  MoAuloy,  then  dying  of  oonsiimption.  Sister  M. 
Genevieve  waa  past  sixty  wlien  slie  volunteered  to  nurse  him.  Before  entering 
X'.eligion,  slie  liiid  lost  her  husband  and  sons  "  on  a  blood-red  field  of  Spain," 
She  was  an  onthuaiastic  gardener,  as  the  grounds  of  St.  Anne's  still  sliow.  Her 
ohief  reorMtion  was  to  rear  flowers  for  the  altar. 


QLEY. 


LIFK  OF  CATHEEIKE  MCAULET. 


8SS 


We  had  great  langh- 
ried  us  a  little  longer, 
3  got  a  separate  place 
,11  not  require  bonnets 

ible  in  his  evil  works, 
lissioner  of  education, 
same  doctrine,  namely, 
This  speaks  well  for 
ind  it  likely  to  injure 

nite  at  home  here. 
Uartha  a  real  treasure, 
a  different  person  from 

like  Foundations  for 
illy  in  aCaiction  at  not 
isent,  but  says  he  must 
ere  on  Sunday.  I  fear 
'  other  postulants,  but 
le  writing  that  I  can 
God  for  the  prosperity 

stulant  for  a  month,  it 
|h  frost ;  the  cold  is  in- 
ter M.  Clare  says  they 

las  been  for  a  century. 
|of  suow  floating  in  the 
expects  two  Sisters 

crchants  in  Portugal. 

well  in  Caggot-street. 
;y  good,  affectionate 

jves  all  her  day  to  him, 
in  the  evening.    She 

loonsuinption.      Sister  M. 

luree  him.    Beforo  entering 

kood-reii  field  of  Spain." 

3t.  Anne's  still  show.  Her 


has  become  quite  fond  of  him,  and,  provided  he  does  nothing  with" 
out  her  leave,  grants  whatever  he  wishes.    Ho  won't  even  open  a 
book  that  is  lent  him  till  she  approves  of  it.    How  good  Qod  is 
to  him  I 
"  A  long  poetic  epistle  from  Sister  M.  Ursula,  who  says  : 

Sister  Oeuevieve's  ffarden  is  looked  up  in  snow, 

So  she  cannot  exert  herself  there. 
But  a  certain  sick  child  whom  yoa  tenderly  know. 
Has  all  her  affectionate  care. 

•  No  sign  of  our  Pastor's*  return  here  as  yet, 

Some  think  that  next  month  iio'll  be  home  ; 
Others  think  that  a  bishopric  surely  he'll  get, 
Or  be  kept  for  the  College  at  Home.' 

"  Slow  workmen  here — no  choir  yet.  Sister  M.  Aloysia  is  out 
every  day.  She  has  a  sick  priest  and  an  old  lady  in  her  own 
charge.  SLstcr  M.  Teresa  has  two  unfortunate  Crottyite  families, 
obstinate,  though  most  miserable  in  mind.  I  never  saw  anything 
so  like  the  description  the  French  Priest,  Monsieur  De  Luers,  gave 
at  George's  Hill,  of  some  possessed  persons  he  saw  in  a  remote 
part  of  France,  who  could  not  bear  the  Sign  of  the  Cross.  These 
unhappy  people  will  not  raise  the  hand  to  make  it,  or  even  suffer 
you  to  help  them  ;  and  while  they  pour  out  dreadful  curses  on  the 
miserable  man  that  deluded  them,  the/  will  not  move  one  step  to 
obtain  reconciliation.  It  seems  as  if  they  could  not.  I  never  saw 
schismatics  before.  They  are  worse  in  appearance  than  heretics. 
The  latter  think  they  are  right ;  the  others  know  they  are  wrong, 
and  yet  are  obstinate.  If  any  of  them  mnke  the  Sign  of  the  Crots 
when  we  are  with  them,  it  is  in  the  style  of  a  stubborn  child,  who 
is  forced  to  say  what  is  against  his  will. 

"  They  are  not  persecuting  me  with  letters  to  return.  God  bless 
Father  O'Hanlon,  be  put  an  end  to  that  in  Baggot-street.  When 
I  returned  from  Galway,  I  looked  so  ill,  that  he  particularly  asked 
what  had  distressed  me.  I  told  him  the  uneasy  state  my  mind  was 
kept  in  with  accounts  from  St.  Mary's,  saying,  '  I  would  not  be 

*  Very  Bev.  Dr.  EnnlH,  Booterstown. 

ir 


886 


LIFE  OF  CATHKBINE   M<JATJLEY. 


home  before  Sister  Aloysia'3  death,  &c.,  &c.,  and  this  wheu  I  had 
&  doath-bed  to  attend  at  St.  Teresa's." 

"l<hb.  14. — Ml  3  Egan  has  entered,  a  very  fine  person,  aboat 

twenty-four.     Poor  Miss  M has  no  chance  here, — money, 

money  is  all  the  theme.  I  entreated  in  favor  of  a  yonng  lady  with 
sixteen  pounds  a  year  and  a  hundred  in  hand — it  was  regarded  aa 
quite  in.-infficient.  A  convent  never  yet  succeeded  in  tliis  diocese 
(Killaloe),  it  is  supposed  from  imprudent  arrangements.  The 
Bishop  has  given  strict  charges  to  the  Yicar,  who  ks  Ecclesiastical 
Superior.  I  leave  this  on  Monday.  Some  remarks  have  been 
made  on  my  being  twice  absent  daring  the  novitiate  of  the  Eng- 
lish Sisters.  The  English  Bishops  think  Superiors  should  be  with 
their  charge.  Sister  Aloysia  is  about  in  all  the  bitter  cold,  a  very 
busy  little  vvoman,  entering  on  her  new  state  very  quietly  and  very 
efficiently.  We  saw  little  to  expect  first,  now  a  bright  light  is 
dawning.  Sister  M.  Cecilia  had  three  Bishops  to  entertain  on 
Sunday,  and  two  en  Monday  She  likes  the  Primate  (Dr.  Crolly) 
and  Bishop  Wiseman  very  each. 

"  P.  S. — Since  I  mentioned  to  S.  M.  Aloysia  that  I  was  going, 
I  have  found  her  crying,  and  must  try  and  remain  eight  or  ten 
days  more.  Besides,  I  promised  to  read  and  explain  part  of  the 
Rule  for  our  postulant,  at  which  I  will  work  diligently  to  help  my 
poor  Sister  Aloysia,  who  cannot  speak  much.  She  has  got  a  nice 
lay  Sister,  strong  and  good-humored.  Sister  M.  Josephine  begs 
that  I  will  take  Naas  on  my  way  home,  in  which  I  promised  to  | 
gratify  her."  ;. 

In  another  letter,  she  says  : 

"  Dear  little  Sister  M.  llose  is  hke  an  angel,  instructing  the  poor  | 
people  led  astray  by  the  schismatical  party.  She  has  them  con- 
stantly about  her,  and  begs  the  whole  Order  will  unite  in  the  { 
Thirty  days'  Prayer  for  the  conversion  of  the  poor  apostate  leader. 
I  try  to  moderate  her  zeal.  I  am  really  afraid,  that  if  they  met 
in  any  poor  place,  she  would  speak  to  him,  and  this  wonld  be  ex- 
ceedingly wrong.* 

*  Mother  McAuley  never  allowed  the  Siaterti  to  iutrodiico  controverey  wheDJ 
tliey  met  Protestantfl,  &c.,  on  the  vinitation.  She  said,  if  poraoiis  having  doubtt  | 
about  their  own  religion  want  ioBtruction,  the  Sisters  were  ever  ready  tu  giva  it;| 


tJLEY. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


387 


,  and  this  wheu  I  had 

rery  fine  person,  about 
chance  here,— money, 
)r  of  a  young  lady  with 
id— it  was  regarded  as 
iceeded  in  tliis  diocese 
t  arrangements.  The 
ir,  who  is  Ecclesiastical 
me  remarks  have  been 
.  novitiate  of  the  Eng- 
uperiors  should  be  with 
11  the  bitter  cold,  a  very 
,te  very  quietly  and  very 
;,  now  a  bright  light  is 
Bishops  to  entertain  on 
the  Primate  (Dr.  CroUy) 

.loysia  that  I  was  going, 
and  remain  eight  or  ten 
and  explain  part  of  the  | 
ork  diligently  to  help  my 
ach.    She  has  got  a  nice  I 
ister  M.  Josephine  begs 
in  which  I  promised  to  I 


angel,  instructing  the  poor 
,rty.  She  has  them  con- 
Order  will  unite  in  the 
the  poor  apostate  leader.  I 
^afraid,  that  if  they  met 
m,  and  this  would  be  cx-| 


to  introduce  controversy  when  I 
0  «ald,  if  persons  having  Uoubtt  I 
ibters  were  ever  reudy  to  givs  lt;l 


"  I  will  not  expect  a  letter  from  you  till  I  return  to  our  dear 
old  habitation,  where  I  shall  never  again  see  all  my  dearly  loved 
Sisters — all  strange  f:\ces  now  !  Tiiey  all  say  that  the  first  separa- 
tion from  home  and  kindred  was  &  joyful  sorrow,  but  that  separa- 
tions in  Religion  are  bitter  smroios.  What  must  it  be  to  me,  who 
have  never  yet  seen  one  unkind  Sister  ?  This  is  a  gloomy  subject. 
We  will  all  meet  in  heaven.     Oh,  what  a  joy  to  think  of  that ! 

"  It  is  reported  that  poor  Father  Grotty  is  getting  several  preach- 
ers to  I'irr,  to  aid  him  in  recovering  some  of  his  congregation 
stolen  by  .^he  L?isters  of  Mercy.  Thank  God,  the  poor  deluded 
souls  are  retnrjing  very  fast,  and  preparing  to  approach  the  Holy 
Sacrament." 

The  dark  spot  which  the  obstinacy  of  the  late  Pastor  of  Birr 
threatened  to  mark  in  the  glorious  history  of  orthodox  Ireland, 
hardly  deserves  the  degrading  distinction  of  being  designated  by 
the  name  of  schism.  It  was  like  a  momentary  eclipse  of  a  very 
small  segment  of  the  sun  ;  it  passed  as  a  noxious  vapor,  tainting 
what  it  touched,  but  incapable  of  inflicting  lasting  injury.  It  left 
no  perceptible  traces  behind  ;  the  people  strove  to  bury  it  iu  obli- 
vion, und  in  a  short  time  the  very  memory  thereof  seemed  com- 
I  pletely  obliterated.  Had  it  not  been  so  graphically  described  iu 
the  letters  of  the  Foundress,  we  could  not  attempt  to  trace  its  his- 
tory, no  one  being  able  or  willing  to  give  correct  inforniatiou  on 
I  the  snbject. 

The  Birr  Convent,  which  was  dedicated  to  St.  Johu  the  Evan- 
Igelist,  prospered  exceedingly.  The  Apostle  of  Temperance  cou- 
I  tinned  its  ective  friend  and  benefactor,  and  the  primary  object  of 
I  the  mission  was  achieved  in  the  rapid  conversion  of  the  "Crotty- 
lites."    The  "  most  angelic  Sister  Aloysia  Scott,"  when  after  lin- 

Ibut  if  tliey  desired  to  wrnnglo  about  religion,  the  Sisters  had  not  tirno,  nor  waa 

lit  Hiiited  to  thuir  vocation  to  jcin  in  auoh.    She  was  so  suocesoful  in  converting 

Irrotostiuits  herself,  that  a  frlond  onoo  said  to  her:  "I  should  think  n  great 

Ideal  more  of  your  benevolence,  if  j  ou  did  not  olways  take  such  pains,  in  yonr 

Iquiet,  irresistible  way,  to  bring  every  one  you  relieved  to  your  own  way  of 

|tliiiiking."    To  wliioh  Kov.  Mother  replied,  her  countenance  g'owing,  as  it  ul- 

vays  did,  when  she  spoke  of  the  Faith  in  which  she  gloried  :  "  It  is  a  burning 

shame,  and  a  lasting  humiliation  for  me  to  think,  that  I,  vho  know  so  well 

»bat  the  C«tholio  Faith  is,  shoild  show  so  little  zeni  in  drawing  all  porsouB  to  It." 

iui  if  she  had  little  loal  iu  this  matter,  God  help  Iha  most  of  lu. 


1:1 


! 


|i 


^H' 


888 


LIFE  OF  CATHBBINB  ICCAULET. 


^ 


>t 


gering  some  years  in  consumption  (but  not  invalided  tUl  near  the 
end),  slie  passed  from  earth  in  May,  1844,  did  not  leave  a  schis- 
matic behind  her.    Even  the  unhappy  man  who  had  vamly  at- 
tempted to  tarnish  the  glory  of  his  Church,  at  length  sought,  and 
we  hope  found,  mercy  through  the  ministry  which  he  himself  had 
for  years  exercised,  with  a  zeal  and  fruit  that  secured  him  un- 
bounded influence  over  his  simple-hearted,  impulsive  flock  ;  and  no 
Catholic,  in  Ireland  or  out  of  it,  bewailed  the  Birr  affair  more  bit- 
terly or  sincerely  than  he  who  had  the  misfortune  to  ongmate  it. 
Very  Rev.  Dr.  O'Brien,  of  All  Hallows  College,  DubUn,  who  re- 
ceived back  this  poor  erring  sheep,  this  real  Prodigal,  to  his  Far 
ther's  house,  says  of  him  :  "  He  wept  long  and  bitterly;  indeed  he 
looked  the  very  victim  of  broken-hearted  sorrow.    He  kept  ever 
aud  ever  crying  out :  '  Oh,  the  pride  of  my  rebel  heart  1    What 
could  I  expect  ?    Disobedience— this  has  been  my  curse  from  first 
to  last!'*    Those  who  wituessed  his  heroic  penance,  hoped,  and  al- 
most felt,  that  it  was  accepted  by  Him  who  wUIs  not  the  death  of 
a  sinner,  but  his  conversion.    Indeed  Rev.  Mr.  Crotty's  fine  natu- 
ral talents,  his  eminently  prepossessing  appearance.f  and  his  pre- 
viously irreproachable  life,  were  not  the  only  ckcumstances  that 
awakened  sympathy  for  him,  even  in  the  minds  of  such  as  knew 
well  that  he  was  using  God's  gifts  against  God  hunself.     There 
were  also  those  who  thought  that,  had  he  been  less  sternly  dealt 
with,  he  had  never  attained  so  unfortunate  a  celebrity.     Of  this 
we  cannot  speak  with  certainty;  but  of  one  thing  we  are  certain, 
that  while  many  things  may  account  for  rebellion  in  religious  mat- 
ters,  nothing  can  justify  it.    Besides,  who  could  have  thought 
that  there  were  in  the  breast  of  that  exemplary,  meek-lookmg 
priest,  passions,  which  a  few  sunple  circumstances  could  lash  into 
such  frenzy  ?  


*  ThU  Jnterviow  took  place  in  the  College  Chapel,  All  HallowB. 

t  Thefoundrew  had  one  interview  with  Mr.  Crotty,  of  which  we  do  no 
know  the  particulars;  but  she  said  that,  except  Bi.hop  Nolan,  she  never  me* 
any  eocle»ia*tio  whose  whole  demeanor  was  so  expressive  of  every  pnesUy  vir- 1 

tue.  ■  ■     ■  ■  .  >  L      ,•    I'.  ,    .'"    V    - 


.ET. 


alided  tUl  near  the 
not  leave  a  schis- 
ivho  had  vainly  at- 
length  sought,  and 
tuch  he  himself  had 
at  secured  him  un- 
ulsive  flock  ;  and  no 
Birr  affair  more  bit- 
;une  to  originate  it. 
ege,  DubUn,  who  re- 
Prodigal,  to  his  Fa- 
d  bitterly,  indeed  he 
row.    He  kept  ever 
rebel  heart  1    What 
n  my  curse  from  first 
•nance,  hoped,  and  ai- 
r/ills not  the  death  of 
Ir.  Crotty's  fine  natu- 
arance.t  and  his  pre- 
ly  circumstances  that 
inds  of  such  as  knew 
God  himself.     There 
)een  less  sternly  dealt 
a  celebrity.     Of  this 
liing  we  are  certain, 
ellion  in  religious  mat- 
could  have  thought 
■mplary,  meek-lookmg  ] 
stances  could  lash  into 


All  Hallows, 
■otty,  of  which  w«  do  not  I 
hop  Nolan,  she  never  me»  | 
issive  of  every  priesUy  vU- 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Frefih  ubjections  to  the  Institute. — Boverend  Mother  appeals  to  Rome. — Let- 
ter.— She  loses  the  last  of  her  "  earthly  joys." — Ilor  warm  attachment  to  her 
relHtives. — The  Naas  Convent. — A  severe  letter. — O'Connell's  speech  at  Car 
riok-on-Suir. — ^The  Wexford  Convent. — A  spoiled  vocation. 

IN  1838  the  rumors  began  to  be  renewed  which  had  been  pre-, 
viously  considered  so  injurious  to  the  Institute.  As  far  as  these 
concerned  herself  personally,  Mother  McAuley  did  not  notice  them ; 
but  when  it  began  to  be  circulated  that  the  Indulgences  granted  to 
her  Order  merely  signified  approval  of  a  temporary  good  work  ; 
that  the  approbation  subsequently  given  by  the  Holy  See  was  of  a 
similar  nature  ;  that  Sisters  of  Mercy  were  not  Religious,  nor 
their  Institute  recognized  ;  and  further,  that  these  reports  caused 
several  ladies  to  hesitate  in  joining  the  Institute,  she  eagerly  in' 
quired  what  she  ought  to  do  to  perfect  the  work  intrusted  to  her, 
and,  in  a  letter  on  the  subject,  she  informs  us  that  she  "  did  ex- 
actly what  was  pointed  out,"  She  wrote  to  His  Holiness,  praying 
him  to  confirm  the  Rules  and  Constitutions  of  the  Institute, 
and  every  Bishop  in  whose  diocese  a  Convent  of  the  Order  wvs 
located  made,  at  her  request,  the  same  petition.  The  documents 
were  forwarded  to  Rome  by  Right  Rev.  Dr.  GrifiBfths,  who  very 
courteously  offered  to  use  his  personal  influence  in  favor  of  their 
speedy  confirmation.  They  were  confirmed  in  June,  1840,  but  as 
this  joyful  intelligence  did  not  reach  Ireland  for  more  than  a  year 
later,  she  was  unable  to  silence  the  objections  urged,  with  apparent 
reason,  against  her  Institifte.  These  weighed  heavily  on  her  mind, 
tending  as  they  did  to  undermine  the  fabric  she  had  raised  with 
such  labor.  They  grieved  her  children,  who  did  not  always  know 
how  to  ruply  to  them.  The  Superioress  of  Charleville  having 
written  to  inquire  what  answer  ought  to  be  given  to  a  person  sho 


390 


hlFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


was  bound  to  respect,  who  had  made  inquiries  on  the  sabject,  tho 
Foundress  wrote    s  follows  : 

"  Mast  Rev.  Dr.  Murray  obtained  the  full  approbation  of  His 
Holiness  for  our  Order  in  1835.  When  the  Rule  was  completed, 
he  affixed  his  seal  and  signature  ;  but  we  did  not  wish  to  ask  a 
confirmation  of  it  from  the  Holy  See  till  wo  had  reduced  it  to  prac- 
tice. When  I  was  in  London  in  January,  1840,  a  petition  for  con- 
firmation was  presented,  accompanied  by  letters  of  strong  recom- 
mendation from  his  Grace,  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,*  the  Lord 
Primate.f  the  BishopJ  of  Dromore,  the  Bishop§  of  Cork,  the 
Bishop  of  Cloyne,||  the  Bishop^  of  Limerick,  the  Bishop**  of 
Kildare  and  LeighUn,  the  Bishopff  of  Ossory,  the  Bishopjt  of 
Meath,  and  the  Bishop§§  of  London.  Very  Rev.  Father  Colgan, 
of  the  Carmelite  Order,  was  bearer  of  a  most  gracious  reply.  He 
wrote  to  roc,  saying  that  if  he  could  remain  in  Rome  some  time 
longer,  he  couF.  bring  home  the  documents.  I  spoke  with  Rev. 
Dr.  Cullen.llll  of  tho  Irish  College,  when  ho  was  in  Dublin.  He 
assured  me  that  the  Confirmation  was  certainly  granted,  but  that 
in  Rome  they  were  slow  in  issuing  final  documents." 

There  was  another  cross  in  prospect  for  the  Foundress  at  this 
time,  the  only  one  of  the  kind  she  was  destined  to  endure  She 
was  about  to  lose  her  nephew  James,  the  lust  of  her  "  earthly 
joys."  Poor  youth  !  his  short  life  had  been  sadly  chequered  ;  he 
had  lost  bis  beautiful  sisters,  whom  he  had  loved  with  proud  and 
passionate  affection  ;  his  beloved  but  wayward  Willie  lay,  perhaps, 
beneath  the  cold,  blue  wave,  and  last  of  all,  his  friend,  his  com- 
panion, his  more  than  brother,  had  been  snatched  from  him. 
While  Robert  moaned  away  his  young  life  in  the  racking  pains  of 
a  quick  consumption,  James  hung  over  him  like  a  mother,  nursing 
him  day  aud  night.  His  aunt  soon  observed  that  if  sorrow  had 
robbed  his  cheek  of  its  fullness,  consumption  was  beginning  to  color 
it  with  its  hectic  flushes.  Tho  soft  hair  lay  damp  against  his 
clammy  brow.  The  tumid  lips,  the  hurried  respiration,  and  the 
quick  little  cough,  were  unmistakable  symptoms  ;  and  besides  all 

•  Dr.  Miirroy.         t  Dr.  Crolly.  t  Dr-  Bliike.  S  Dr.  Murphy. 

I  Dr.  Coppinger,     f  Dr.  Ryan.  •*  Dr.  Ilaly.  tt  Dr.  KinselU. 

{t  Dr.  Cantwell.     H  Dr.  Oriffiaiis.        Now  UU  Etiiinonco  Cardinal  CuUen. 


HUP 


on  the  subject,  tho 

approbation  of  His 
;i,ule  was  completed, 
.  not  wish  to  ask  a 
d  reduced  it  to  prao- 
0,  a  petition  for  con- 
jrs  of  strong  recom- 
f  Dublin,*  the  Lord 
.shop§  of  Cork,  the 
:k,  the  Bishop**  of 
,ry,  the  Bishopjt  of 
Rev.  Father  Colgan, 
,  gracious  reply.  He 
in  Kome  some  time 
I  spoke  with  Rev. 
was  in  Dublin.  He 
Qly  granted,  but  that 
nents." 

he  Foundress  at  this 
ined  to  endure  She 
last  of  her  "  earthly 

sadly  chequered  ;  he 
loved  with  proud  and 
rd  Willie  lay,  perhaps, 
11,  his  friend,  his  com- 

Buatched  from  him. 
I  the  racking  pains  of 
ike  a  mother,  nursing 
jd  that  if  sorrow  had 
was  beginninji;  to  color 

lay  damp  against  his 
d  respiration,  and  the 
toms  ;  and  besides  all 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE   MOAULET, 


891 


$  Dr.  Murphy. 
+t  Dr.  Kinsells. 
Eminonoo  Cardinal  CiiUen. 


this,  there  was  a  sickness  at  the  poor  boy's  heart,  the  loneliness  of 
one  who  had  lost  all  he  loved  on  earth.  James,  if  he  did  not  pos- 
sess the  talents  of  Robert,  was  gifted  with  the  beauty  of  Mary 
Teresa,  and  the  attractive  amiability  of  the  "innocent,  playful 
Catherine."  He  was  gentle  as  a  little  child.  His  aunt  fondly 
hoped  that  this  last  memento  of  her  departed  sister  would  be 
spared  her,  but  the  hand  of  God  was  already  on  him.  In  October, 
1840,  she  wrote  to  the  Superioress  of  St.  Leo's  : 

"  My  poor  James  is  in  an  advanced  stage  of  consumption.  He 
keeps  the  same  way,  but  is,  I  suppose,  getting  nearer  to  eternity. 
He  is  really  pious,  and  wishes  the  priest  to  visit  him  frequently,  ind 
receives  Holy  Communion  as  often  as  persons  in  his  state  can. 
The  Sisters  are  with  him  every  day.  He  is  quite  cheerful,  and 
speaks  of  his  death  most  happily.  This  is  a  great  consolation. 
Continue  to  pray  for  him.  My  poor  Robert's  last  wish  was,  that 
the  Sisters  would  always  pray  for  his  poor  soul.  I  am  with  my 
dear  child  as  much  as  possible." 

In  December,  1840,  she  wrote  to  the  same  : 

"  We  have  a  Sister  in  fever,  another  had  three  attacks  of  hemop- 
tysis in  one  day,  another  has  erysipelas.  In  the  midst  of  all  this,  a 
note  from  Sister  M.  Genevieve,  saying  :  '  Come  as  fast  as  possible; 
James  is  dying,  and  wants  to  see  you.'  My  cough  was  greatly  in- 
creased by  going,  as  the  doors  and  windows  had  to  be  kept  open 
to  give  air  to  my  poor  boy.  Tho  weakness  passed  away.  I  fear 
my  child  will  have  many  such.  He  is  in  a  heavenly  state  of  mind, 
always  imploring  God's  forgiveness.  Get  all  the  prayers  you  can 
for  him.  Thanks  be  to  God,  he  is  quite  joyful.  How  good  our 
Lord  is  to  him  !" 

In  the  next  letter,  dated  March,  1841,  she  thus  pathetically 
describes  the  departure  of  the  last  of  "  her  earthly  joys"  : 

"  My  poor  James*  is  in  eternity.  He  died  like  a  saint.  Though 

•  A  college  friend  of  JemcB  McAuIoy's,  whom  tho  Foundresii  describes  as  "a 
very  good  young  man,"  nnd  wlio  seems  to  linvo  loved  liia  dying  friend  as 
Jonathan  loved  David,  insisted  on  stnyiug  np  with  James  every  niglit  for  &oino 
months  before  the  death  of  the  latter.  Tliis  ielf-conistitnted  nurse  fell  a  victim 
to  his  cliarity  and  affection.  No  sooner  was  James  laid  bcaide  Robert,  than  hia 
friend  either  caught  tlie  disease  or  became  sympiithetlcully  affected,  and  in  a 
few  weeks  wai  no  more.  This  death  greatly  affected  the  Foundreu,  for  the  boy 
woi  the  only  ton  ^f  hii  mother,  and  she  was  a  widow. 


m 


893 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


parched  with  thirst,  he  woald  not  take  a  drop  of  wnter  without 
making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  or  suffer  his  pillow  to  be  moved  with- 
out saying  some  little  prayer.  He  never  yiea  impatient  for  five 
minates,  though  for  six  months  he  was  not  up  an  entire  day.  He 
received  the  Holy  Viaticum  every  eight  days,  and  lived  to  the  last 
eighth,  so  as  to  receive  it  two  homrs  before  he  died.  He  would  not 
allow  the  cmcifix  to  be  removed  from  his  bedside,  even  when  his 
ancle  came.  Tell  all  this  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald.  It  will  gratify  him 
to  find  that  the  pious  Impressions  he  made  did  not  pass  away.  Yon 
will  all  pray  fervently  for  my  poor  boy,  I  know.  My  earthly  joys 
are  all  cnt  down  now,  thank  God,  but  the  joys  of  my  state  remain, 
and  I  feel  the  most  lively  gratitude.  I  have  nothing  now  to  draw 
me  one  hour  from  my  Religious  Sisters,  in  whom  all  my  earthly 
happiness  is  centered.  Every  year's  experience  of  their  worth 
attaches  me  more  strongly  to  them,  and  I  am  as  ardent  for  new 
ones  as  if  I  were  only  just  beginning.  I  suppose  it  is  the  spirit  of 
my  state,  and  all  my  first  children  have  it." 

The  intense  affection  which  Rev.  Mother  manifested  in  life,  in 
dea^h  and  after  death,  ^or  her  sister's  children,  may  excite  some 
surprise.  Towards  them  she  was  peculiarly  placed.  She  became 
at  once  their  father  and  their  mother.  God  used  her  as  His  in- 
strument in  drawing  them  to  the  Faith.  They  had  spoiled  bright 
eai'ihly  pros^iects  in  choosing  her  for  their  guardian.  She  had  pro- 
mised their  dying  mother  to  regard  them  as  her  own  children.  For 
these  reasons  and  others  she  felt  bound  to  show  them  the  greatest 
affection — indeed,  their  gentleness  and  amiability  quite  won  her ; 
and  their  fidelity  to  the  Catholic  religion,  under  extraordinary 
difficulties,  excited  her  to  revere  them.  She  possessed  immense 
influence  over  them.  WiUie  was  the  only  one  that  ever  resisted 
her ;  and  we  have  already  related  how  soon  and  how  bitterly  he 
bewailed  his  disobedience.  Yet  it  was  in  God  and  for  God  that 
she  loved  them :  all  her  influence  was  exercised  only  for  God's 
greater  glory.  Deeply  as  she  loved  them,  they  never  came  be- 
tween her  and  her  duty.  Catherine  was  dying  when  she  left  for 
Cork,  Robert  when  she  left  for  London,  James  when  she  left  foi' 
Birr — ^yet  she  turned  aside  from  their  dying  beds  when  God's  will 
culled  her  elsewhere ;  and  she  did  this  so  cheerfully  that  those  who 


KT. 


LITE  OF  OATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


898 


[)  of  wfiter  without 
'  to  be  moved  with- 
s  impatient  for  five 
an  entire  day.  He 
ind  lived  to  the  last 
led.  He  would  not 
side,  even  when  his 
It  will  gratify  him 
not  pass  away.  Yon 
w.  My  earthly  joys 
I  of  my  state  remain, 
lothing  now  to  draw 
rhom  all  my  earthly 
nee  of  their  worth 
im  as  ardent  for  new 
jose  it  is  the  spirit  of 

manifested  in  life,  in 
en,  may  excite  some 
Llaced.    She  became 
d  used  her  as  His  in- 
ey  had  spoiled  bright 
wdian.    She  had  pro- 
er  own  children.  For 
ow  them  the  greatest 
ibility  quite  won  her ; 
under  extraordinary 
le  possessed  immense 
me  that  ever  resisted 
and  how  bitterly  he 
od  and  for  God  that 
■cised  only  for  God's 
they  never  came  be- 
ing when  she  left  for 
mes  when  she  left  foi" 
beds  when  God's  will 
lerfuHy  that  those  who 


accompanied  her  could  not  perceive  the  least  trace  of  the  terrible 
struggle  it  cost  a  heart  like  hers.  One  by  one  she  resigned  them 
all  to  their  Father  in  heaven,  freely,  nay  joyfully,  though  with  a 
bursting  heart ;  and  if  she  bent  over  their  fair  young  forms,  beau- 
tiful even  in  death,  and  performed  the  last  offices  for  them,  and 
chanted  requiems  for  their  disembodied  spirits,  with  a  tearless  eye 
and  serene  countenance,  it  wap  becausij  her  agony  was  too  deep 
for  tears,  though  her  heart  coucurred  with  her  pen  in  writing, 
"  My  earthly  joys  are  all  cut  down,  thank  God."  She  could 
hardly  step  over  the  prostrate  body  of  an  only  son,  as  did  the 
heroic  widow  of  Dijon.*  L'ie  St.  Bernard,  however,  she  brought 
the  dearest  of  her  relations  to  the  cloister  with  herself,  and  them 
all  to  the  true  Church  ;  und  if  in  secret  the  tears  gushed  from  her 
soft,  blue  eye,  her  children  remembered  that  "  Jesus  wept"  over 
his  friend,  and  they  could  say  with  the  Jews — "  Behold  how  she 
loved  them."  But  well  they  knew  that  His  will  was  dearer  to  her 
than  all  else — that  she  "  loved  Him  as  well  wheu  He  took  as  when 
He  gave,"  though  the  tear  glistens  in  her  eye  when  she  recalls  the 
oCfering. 

But  to  resume  the  history  of  the  foundations  : 

A  Convent  of  Mercy  was  opened  in  Naas  in  1839.  Its  pro- 
gress was  for  a  time  very  slow,  as  Mother  McAuley  pleasantly  re- 
marks, thus  :  "  Poor  Naas  is  like  the  little  chicken  called  creepy- 
Crawley  in  a  healthy  clutch.  It  has  been  a  little  martyrdom  to 
my  poor  Sister  M.  Josephine,  so  mnch  to  be  done  and  so  few  to  do 
it.  I  wish  it  would  take  a  start."  In  time  it  realized  her  most 
sanguine  expectations,  but  a  circumstance  occurred  in  connection 
with  it,  towardi  the  end  of  1840,  which  drew  from  Reverend 
Mother  the  severest  letter  she  ever  wrote.  The  circumstances 
were  these : 

A  lady  entering  St.  Mary's,  whose  friends  in  Naas  wished  her  to 

*  The  fortitnde  of  St.  Jane  Frances  looks  too  superhuman  to  edifj  every  one. 
Thus  her  countryman,  Lamartino,  says  something  to  this  effect ;  "  M.  la  B*- 
ronn«.  de  Chantal  is  regarded  as  patroness  of  the  Visitation  Order,  but  she 
never  oau  he  considered  the  patroness  of  niotlicrs  and  orphans."  {VU  d* 
Madame  dt  Sevigni.)  Monsieur  le  Comte  does  not  seem  to  have  read  the 
•aint's  life  very  carefully. 

IT* 


^11 


894 


LIFE  OF  CATnJi-iilNE  MCAULET. 


enter  Naas  Convent,  the  latter  undertook  to  induce  her  to  Icare 
Ba^got-strcet,  the  Pastor  engaging  to  help  them,  and  the  Supe- 
rioress consenting  by  her  silence  to  the  dishonorable  proceeduig. 
Mother  McAuley,  who  waa  the  qnintescence  of  honor  and  nprighb» 
ncss,  was  deeply  pained  on  learning  this.  She  would  rather  that 
a  hundred  postulants  «ere  lost  to  the  Order,  than  that  one  of  its 
members  should  use  Jinesae  in  the  most  trivial  matter.  As  soon 
as  she  saw  through  the  affair,  she  offered  to  send  the  young  lady 
to  Naas,  but  the  latter  did  not  wish  to  go  there.  She  then  wrote 
as  follows  to  the  young  Superioress  : 

"  St.  John's,  Birb,  February  14,  1841. 

"  I  have  seldom  heard  anything  more  extraordinary  than  your 
expectation  of  gettiug  a  Sister  who  was  never  spoken  to  on  the 
subject  till  she  heard  that  Father  Doyle  had  come  for  her.  I  was 
not  aware  that  she  or  her  friends  ever  heard  there  was  a  Convent 
in  Naas.  Had  the  least  intimation  been  made  to  me,  she  would 
never  have  been  admitted  here;  of  this  you  may  rest  assured.  But 
how  couM  such  arrangements  take  place  without  communication 
with  you  ?  The  Sister  laughs  at  it,  and  says  she  thought  the  Su- 
perioress was  the  uerson  to  act  on  such  occasions.  She  was  edu- 
cated in  a  Convent,  and  knows  how  business  of  this  kmd  ought  to 
be  transacted.  Worldly  persons  can  never  arrange  the  affairs  of  B«- 
ligious.  I  am  much  distressed,  dear  Sister,  to  hear  yon  say,  '  I 
wrote  to  you,  but  just  at  that  time  I  got  the  painful  intelligence  of 
my  Sister,  which  absorbed  all  my  thoughts  since.'  All  jour 
thoughts  ?  I  hope  not,  my  dear  Sister  ;  that  would  be  a  very 
bad  way  to  make  Religious  houses  flourish,  or  advance  the  work 
Of  God 

"  Earnestly  wishing  you  all  the  graces  and  blessings  of  this  holy 
seucon,  I  remain,"  etc.,  etc. 

This  cold,  almost  bitter  letter,  comes  strangely  enough  from  the 
sweet,  gracious  Foundress;  but  anything  that  savored  of  duplicity 
she  could  never  understand  or  tolerate  in  a  Religious.  At  the 
very  time  she  wrote  the  above,  she  sent  to  Limerick  a  letter  which 
has  this  passage :  "I  feel  very  much  for  my  poor  dear  Sister  M. 
Josephine,  she  was  so  fondly  attached  to  her  sister."    "  Easy  to 


•WMP*' 


r. 

uce  ber  to  leare 
n,  and  tto  Supe- 
rable  proceeding, 
onor  and  upright- 
rould  rather  that 
,n  that  one  of  its 
matter.  As  soon 
Qd  the  young  lady 
,    She  then  wrote 


trnary  14,  1841. 
)rdinary  than  your 
spoken  to  on  the 
me  for  her.    I  was 
ere  was  a  Convent 

to  me,  she  would 
r  rest  assured.  Bat 
out  communication 
ke  thought  the  Su- 
ras.   She  was  edu- 

this  kind  ought  to 
ge  the  affairs  of  Re- 
)  hear  you  say,  '  I 
jnful  intelligence  of 

since.'  All  your 
t  would  be  a  vtry 

r  advance  the  work 

essings  of  this  holy 

ily  enough  from  the 
lavored  of  duplicity 
Religious.  At  the 
lerick  a  letter  which 
)Oor  dear  Sister  M. 
sister."    "Easy  to 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


895 


forgive,"  she  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  visiting  Naas,  to 
show  how  entirely  she  was  appeased,  and  to  ease  the  mind  of  the 
poor  Superioress. 

Wexford  Convent,  St.  Michael's,  \\as  founded  in  1840,  at  the 
request  of  the  Bishop  of  Ferns,  Dr.  Keating,  and  Very  Rev.  Fa- 
ther Lacy.  Besides  attending  to  the  more  spiritual  wants  of  the 
new  houses,  Reverend  Mother  used  to  purchase  for  them  what 
could  not  be  easily  procured  in  country  towns,  as  materials  for 
veils  and  '..^Mts,  etc.,  the  house  at  which  she  used  to  deal  in  Dub- 
lin always  sending  to  Baggot-street,  whenever  she  desired  it,  pieces 
from  which  she  might  select  what  best  suited.  Sending  a  piece  of 
veiling  to  Wexford,  she  gives  an  amusing  extract  from  a  speech  of 
O'Connell'd  : 

"  While  providing  for  the  head,  do  not  forget  the  poor  feet,  to 
which  the  Repealer  thus  called  attention  at  a  public  dinner  lately 
given  him  in  Carrick-on-Suir  : 

" '  No  country  on  the  face  of  the  earth  is  like  Ireland.  Look  at 
the  fairest  portion  of  creation,  educated  and  possessing  all  the  vir- 
tues that  adorn  and  endear  life,  forsaking  their  homes  and  families, 
and  friends — entering  a  convent  in  the  morning  of  then*  days,  to 
devote  long  lives  to  piety  and  the  promotion  of  virtue.  Look  at 
the  Sisters  of  Mercy  (hear,  hear),  wrapped  in  their  long,  black 
cloaks.  They  are  seen  gliding  along  the  streets  in  their  humble 
attire,  while  a  slight  glance  at  the  foot  shows  the  accomplished 
lady.  (Cheers.)  Thus  they  go  forth,  not  for  amusement  or  de- 
light ;  no.  They  are  hastening  to  the  lone  couch  of  some  sick 
fellow-creature,  fast  sinking  into  the  grave,  with  none  to  comfort, 
none  to  soothe  ;  they  come  with  love  and  consolation,  and  by  their 
prayers,  bring  down  the  blessings  of  God  on  the  dying  sinner,  on 
themselves,  and  on  their  country.  (^ Great  cheering.)  Oh,  such  a 
country  is  too  good  to  continue  in  slavery.    (Immense  cheering.)' " 

"  This  afforded  great  amusement  hero,  each  claiming  for  her  own 
foot  the  tribute  of  praise." 

No  wonder  that,  when  the  Foundress  read  this  speech  at  recre- 
ation, there  was  plenty  of  laughing.  How  Dan.  contrived  to  give 
"  a  glance  at  the  foot,"  they  could  hardly  imagine,  f(\r  the  "  long, 
black  cloaks"  neither  "  began  too  late,  nor  ended  too  soon ;"  bat 


396 


LIFB  OP  cathbrute  mcaulkt. 


how  he  conld  read  "  the  accomplished  lady"  in  the  homely  foot- 
gear, embroidered  with  the  rich  metropolitau  mud,  which  clings 
heavily  and  gratefully  to  all  who  tread  the  lanes  and  alleys  of 
Dublin,  was  a  problem,  the  solution  of  which  is,  that  O'Conuell 
was  an  Irishman  of  the  old  stamp,  and  as  such,  could  not  mention 
ladies,  religious  or  secular,  without  paying  a  compliment. 

The  following  little  passage  shows  that  Mother  McAuley's  zeal 
extended  to  every  thing  connected  with  the  Order,  nor  did  she 
thuik  any  thing  so  trifling  as  to  be  beneath  her  notice  :  \-  ,>> 

"  Sister  M.  Teresa  takes  a  paper  daily  to  look  at  arrivals  at 
hotels,  &c.,  (in  order  to  seek  work  for  poor  girls  from  the  Catholic 
nobility,  &c.)  She  pointed  out  to  me  a  paragraph  annoancmg  the 
arrival  of  Sisters  of  Oharity  in  Wexford.  I  immediately  sent  the 
following  correction,  which  will  appear  to-morrow  : 


"SISTERS   OF  MKBCT. 

"  The  belovsd  and  venerated  Dr,  Keating,  Cathohc  Bishop  of 
Ferns,  has  brought  a  branch  of  this  Order  to  the  town  of  Wexford, 
from  the  flourishing  establishment  in  Carlow." 

Some  time  after,  one  of  her  convents  met  with  a  two-fold  loss, 
that  of  a  promised  subject  and  of  a  liberal  benefactress.  A  lady 
who  had  been  most  generous  to  the  convent  we  allude  to,  had  de- 
cided on  entering,  and  even  went  to  Dublin  to  make  conclusive  ar- 
rangements. Daring  her  stay  at  Kingstown,  whither  she  repaired 
to  recruit  her  health,  she  became  acquainted  with  a  gentleman  con- 
siderably her  junior,  whose  wealth  consisted  in  a  dashing  appear- 
ance, high  blood,  a  light  pm-se,  and  an  unconquerable  objection  to 
every  thing  vulgar,  especially  eammg  his  bread.  This  acquaint- 
ance ripened  into  friendship,  on  one  side  at  least.  When  very  wise 
people  become  foolish,  it  is  generally  on  a  large  scale.  The  young 
gentleman  soon  gained  so  complete  an  ascendancy  over  the  fair 
spinster,  that,  the  day  before  the  marriage,  persuading  her  that 
the  rough  work  of  looking  after  real  estate  was  ill-saited  to  so  line 
a  lady,  he  induced  her  to  settle  nearly  all  her  property  on  him. 
A  few  days  after,  he  informed  her  that  his  '  affairs'  requured  his 
presence  in  London.  A  scene  took  place.  He  went  next  morn- 
ing, but  foi-got  to  return.    His  wife  had  the  pleasure  of  sending 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


wt 


le  homely  foot- 
d,  which  clings 
3  and  alleys  of 
that  O'Conuell 
lid  not  mention 
iment. 

McAuley's  zeal 
er,  nor  did  she 
tice  : 

t  at  arrivals  at 
rom  the  Catholic 
i  announcing  the 
lediately  sent  the 


the  bulk  of  her  income  every  year  to  be  sqaandered  in  the  gam- 
bling-houses and  race-courses  of  England.  Once  when  she  refused 
to  do  this,  he  coolly  told  her,  that,  in  case  she  delayed  payments, 
his  lawyers  had  instructions  to  commence  proceedings  against  her. 
The  poor  lady  knew  that,  however  dishonest  the  conduct  of  her 
juvenile  spouse  wa".  it  ^as  perfectly  legal.  None  pitied  her  more 
sinfierely  than  Rev.  inuJi-"",  who  could  never  see  the  wisdom  of 
censuring  people  when  '*  the  harm  was  done,"  while  she  regretted 
that,  by  this  ill-starred  union,  the  Sisters  lost  a  benefactress  able 
and  willing  to  assist  them  in  their  charitable  undertakings.  But 
Qod  raised  up  other  friends  for  them,  that  his  poor  might  meet 
with  no  loss. 


itholic  Bishop  of 
;own  of  Wexford, 

a  two-fold  loss, 
factress.    A  lady     | 
allude  to,  hadde- 
ike  conclusive  ar- 
ither  she  repaired 
a  gentleman  con- 
dashing  appear- 
rable  objection  to 
This  acquaint- 
When  very  wise 
scale.    The  young 
ancy  over  the  fair 
rsuacUng  her  that 
ill-suited  to  so  fine 
property  on  him. 
iffau-s'  requured  his 
B  went  next  mom- 
leasure  of  sending 


tnMm 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII.  ^.. 

Declining  health  of  the  FcundresB. — The  English  SiHterg.  —  Letter  of  the 
Bishop  of  Birminghani. — Bishop  Wiseman. —  The  Bishop  of  Liverpool.^ 
jiliBs  O —  - ,  of  Eaton  House. — Kenowal  of  tlie  Liverpool  negotintions. — Let- 
ter of  D/.  Youens.— Dr.  Pusey,— Conflrraation  of  the  Kule.— The  Bincing- 
ham  Foundation. 

IN  the  spring  of  1841,  it  became  evident  that  Rev.  Mother  was 
not  long  for  this  world.  All  her  old  complaints  attacked  her ; 
and  the  cough,  previously  only  an  occasional  visitant,  scarcely  ever 
left  her.  "  Her  face  was  as  of  one  going  to  Jeiasalem  ;"  already  it 
reflected  the  rays  of  brightness  that  emanate  from  the  Eternal  Sun 
of  Justice,  who  is  the  light  of  that  distant  promised  land.  The 
Sisters,  whom  she  called  her  "  kind  tortoentors,"  entreated  her  to 
try  change  of  air ;  but  she  replied,  by  repeating  her  favorite  lines; 

"  Ne'er  quitted  but  to  Bolace  man, 
Ne'er  entered  but  to  worship  God." 

&he  had  never  yet  gone  beyond  her  cloister  for  purposes  of  health 
or  recreation — it  was  hardly  likely  she  would  do  so  now.  "  I  must 
■wait  for  change  of  air,"  she  wrote,  "  till  May,  when  I  have  in  view 
another  toilsome  journey  to  Birr.  It  would  not  stand  without  aid. 
I  had  the  kindest  of  notes  yesterday  from  Father  Mathew,  God 
bless  him  !  He  fixed  Ascension  Day  for  the  ceremony.  Pour 
here  are  preparing  to  play  and  sing,  all  possible  excitement  being 
required." 

In  the  same  letter  she  informs  her  correspondent  that  she  has 
sent  the  Mistress  of  Novices  on  a  visit,  and,  ill  as  she  was  herself, 
she  took,  for  the  time,  the  direction  of  the  Novices  in  addition  to 
her  other  duties. 

"  Sister  M.  Cecilia  is  gone  to  Birr.  She  was  very  weak,  and 
bad  some  complaints  similar  to  the  last  poor  Sister  Frances  had  ; 


'"-'■-'■'■'."F*"*'^ 


as 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


899 


rg.— Letter  of  tli« 
lop  of  Liverpool.— 
.  iicgotiiitionB. — Let- 
:ule.— Tbe  Blriring- 

Rev,  Mother  was 
Qt8  attacked  her ; 
»nt,  scarcely  ever 
salem  ;"  already  it 
n  the  Eternal  Sun 
)mised  land.  The 
'  entreated  her  to 
her  favorite  lines; 


purposes  of  health 
,  BO  now.  "  I  must 
hen  I  have  in  view 
stand  without  aid. 
her  Mathew,  God 
J  ceremony.  Four 
}  excitement  being 

adent  t'uat  she  has 
as  she  was  herself, 
vices  in  addition  to 

ms  very  weak,  and 
ilstcr  Frances  had  ; 


it  being  the  same  period  of  the  year,  we  became  a  little  snpersti* 
tionsly  affected — a  favorable  opportunity  offered,  and  I  sent  her. 
As  we  had  designed  she  should  go  there  to  assist  at  the  ceremony, 
I  had  not  much  difficulty  to  surmount — all  have  strong  objections 
to  move  merely  for  health.  She  Is  better,  but  still  weak.  I  fear 
she  will  never  be  strong.  I  am  now  a  very  busy  woman,  minding 
my  Novices.  Our  English  Sisters  edify  us  greatly.  They  give 
unquestionable  evidence  of  a  real  desire  to  understand  perfectly  the 
obligations  of  the  religions  state,  and  to  enter  into  its  true  spirit. 
I  look  forward  to  my  journey  to  Birmingham  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling. The  Sisters  for  that  foundation  continue  to  be  all  that  we 
desire.  Not  a  doubtful  one  among  them.  Pray,  and  get  all  the 
prayers  yon  can,  that  God  may  bring  us  well  through  this  business. 
His  Divine  aid  alone  can.  I  am  greatly  perplexed  about  a  Su- 
perior." * 

At  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Wiseman,*  wb<  kindly  offered  to 
preach  on  the  occasion,  and  with  the  full  approval  of  the  Arch- 
bishop, the  venerable  Bishop  of  Birmingham  was  invited  to  St. 
Mary's,  to  receive  the  profession  of  his  future  children.  To  this 
invitation  he  kindly  acceded,  and  he  thus  concludes  bis  courteoos 
letter  : 

"  I  shall  have  great  pleasure,  indeed,  in  receiving  the  vows  of 
my  dear  daughters  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  more  so  as  I  have  a 
beautiful  convent,  the  admiration  of  all  who  see  it,  furnished  with 
every  reqiiisite,  ready  for  them  to  commence  their  works  of  mercy." 

Archbishop  Murray,  on  reading  this  very  courteous  letter,  re- 
marked that  was  "  a  high  honor  to  all  concerned." 

The  greatest  possible  interest  was  manifested  in  the  Institute  by 
the  English  bishops  and  priests.  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Brown  wrote  for 
a  colony,  but  the  Foundress  was  obliged  to  refuse,  because  she  had 
not  a  single  Sister  to  spare  that  was  not  already  destined  for  pre- 
vious applicants.  The  following  letter  from  a  wealthy  and  pious 
lady  of  Lancashire  reached  St.  Mary's  just  as  Reverend  Mother 
had  declined,  for  the  present,  to  undertake  the  Liverpool  foun- 
dation ■. 


*  Lftte  Cardinal  WinemAU. 


■■^t"""^ 


^■*^^**i-!t,,.  ,»..«»*^.  ; 


400 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


"Dear  and  Respkcted  Mother:  >    .-    ■ 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  addressing  )oa  as  a  child,  to  beg  a  faroi 
which  I  hare  long  wished  for,  of  being  really  admitted  as  one 
among  your  community.  I  deferred  writing  until  I  could  take  this 
decisive  step,  and  now  the  consent  of  ny  parents  enables  me  to 
do  so.  I  think  you  know  the  difficulty  I  hare  had  in  obtaining 
this,  being  the  only  daughter  with  them,  and  how  mnch  I  feel  ieav* 
ing  my  present  happy  home  ;  but  I  hare  long  had  a  strong  desire 
to  dedicate  myself  to  God  in  the  admirable  Order  of  Our  Lady 
of  Mercy,  and  I  think  I  have  met  with  snfBclent  trials  f  o  prove 
that  this  desire  comes  from  the  Almighty,  and  from  a  conviction 
that  it  is  in  that  state  I  shall  meet  with  the  most  abundant  means 
for  working  out  my  eternal  salvetion.  It  is  with  the  advice  of  my 
Director  that  I  now  humbly  beg  to  be  admitted  a  postnlante 
in  yo!^r  honsc.  I  know  I  have  many,  many  faiults.  I  have  so 
long  followed  my  own  will  and  inclinations,  that,  no  doubt,  my  idle 
habits  will  repine  at  a  life  of  continual  activity,  but  I  trust  our 
good  God  will  give  me  grace  proportioned  to  my  necessities.  I 
feel  determined  to  make  every  effort  in  my  power  to  become  a  true 
spouse  of  Christ,  and  prove  my  gratitude  for  the  inestimable  grace 
of  a  religious  vocation.  I  cannot  tell  exactly  the  time  when  I  shall 
be  able  to  leave  home. 

"  Should  I  be  allowed  to  spend  u  year  and  a  half  or  two  years 
in  the  noviceship  of  your  house,  with  the  intention  of  retaming  to 
England  at  the  end  of  that  time  ?  I  fuel  very  dcsirons  of  doing 
what  little  good  I  can  in  my  own  country,  where  I  see  instroctioa 
and  good  example  so  mnch  needed,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  bind  my- 
self to  any  place.  I  certainly  should  like  very  much  to  go  to  Bi^ 
mingham,  but  I  should  be  sorry  to  relinquish  the  advantage  of 
passing  my  whole  novitiate  with  you,  and  I  cnnnot  tell  what  estab- 
lishments may  be  founded  in  my  own  district  meanwhile. 

•'  But  above  all,  I  desire  to  be  guided  by  what  you  consider  most 
advisable  for  me,  and  for  the  advancement  of  God's  honor  and 
glory.  Papa  will  pay  any  sum  required  during  my  novitiate,  and 
the  usual  portion  to  the  house  at  which  I  am  to  be  professed. 
Perhaps  you  will  be  good  enough  to  say  what  that  is,  when  yon 
write ;  aluo,  if  there  is  anything  you  wish  ma  to  bring.    Sister  { 


LIPB  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


Id,  to  beg  a  favoi 

admitted  as  one 

I  could  take  this 

its  enables  me  to 

had  in  obtaining 

r  much  I  feel  ieav- 

id  a  strong  desire 

•der  of  Our  Lady 

it  trials  to  prove 

from  a  conviction 

t  abundant  means 

1  the  advice  of  my 

itted  a  postulante 

faults.    I  have  so 

,  no  doubt,  my  idle 

r,  but  I  trust  owr 

my  necessities.    I 

5r  to  become  a  true 

e  inestimable  grace 

10  time  when  I  shall 

half  or  two  years 
ion  of  returning  to 
y  desirous  of  doing 
ere  I  see  instruction 
•t  wish  to  bind  my- 
much  to  go  to  Bi^ 
\i  the  advantage  of 
mot  tell  what  eatab- 
leanwhile. 

at  you  consider  most 
)f  God's  honor  and 
ig  my  novitiate,  and 

am  to  be  professed, 
it  that  is,  when  yoa 
na  to  bring.    Sister  I 


Juliana  will  bo  able  to  tell  yon  anything  about  me  which  I  may 
have  omitted. 

"  May  I  beg  of  you,  dear  Mother,  and  your  charitable,  holy 
community,  to  remember  me  sometimes  in  your  prayers.  I  feel 
that  I  stand  in  need  of  them  under  the  present  trying  parting.  I 
trust,  if  I  leave  all  those  dearest  to  me  on  earth,  it  is  to  do  God's 
will,  and  to  attach  myself  more  closely  to  Him,  while  I  hope  to 
meet  them  in  a  far  better  world,  never  more  to  be  separated. 
"  Believe  me,  Reverend  Mother, 

"  With  sincerest  respect, 

"  Your  most  obedient  child, 

"Fanny  G .* 

"Eaton  Hall,  Lancashire,  March  26,  1841." 

The  Foundress  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  letter,  the  penman* 
ship  cf  which  is  very  beautiful.  The  young  lady  arrived  in  a  few 
days,  and  was  regarded  as  the  beginning  of  the  Liverpool  founda- 
tion. Her  letter  is  endorsed  in  the  cramped  writing  of  Mother 
McAuley  :  "  Sister  Fanny  is  as  nice  as  her  letter  ;  a  docile,  affec- 
tionate creature,  all  alive  and  delighted  with  her  duties,  highly  ac- 
complished, and  as  humble  as  if  she  entered  for  a  Lay  Sister.  She 
is  a  real  treasure." 

Reverend  Mother,  with  that  beautiful  urbanity  which  hcroio 
charity  produced  in  her,  used  to  go  a  little  way  with  everybody. 
She  could  be  a  merchant  with  a  merchant,  a  divine  with  a  divine, 
a  poet  with  a  poet,  a  physician  with  a  physician,  but  it  was  only 
with  O'Connell  that  she  became  ever  so  little  of  the  politician. 
Now,  she  knew  that  this  grct  t  champion  of  the  Church  was  highly 
pleased  to  see  ladies  of  the  highest  rank  in  England,  coming  to 
learn  the  alphabet  of  the  spiritual  life  in  what  he  delighted  to  call 
"  the  finest  country  on  the  face  of  the  earth."  Hence,  whenever 
an  application  of  the .  above  nature  reached  her,  she  always  in- 
formed the  Liberator,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  St.  Mary's. 
On  reading  the  above  letter,  he  remarked  :  "  Miss  Fanny  will  per 
severe — she  will  never  repine  in  Gcd's  service."    Ho  was  right. 

The  Bishop  of  Liverpool  wrote  again  to  Baggot-street,  and  sent 


ran 


402 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


Dr.  Yoaens,  his  Vicar-General,  to  urge  the  Fonndrcsa  to  giTS  him 
a  colony.  Eager  to  oblige  his  lordship,  and  jet  nnable  of  "  stones 
to  raise  up  children,"  she  offered  to  procure  a  few  Sisters  from  some 
house  in  the  provinces  ;  but  he  desired  that  Religious  trained  di- 
rectly by  herself  shoold,  if  possible,  be  obtained.  As  this  could 
not  be  done,  and  as  the  matter  was  still  pressed,  she  wrote  to  Very 
Kcv.  Dr.  Youens  as  follows  : 
"Respected  and  Very  Reverend  Father: 

"  I  this  day  received  a  letter  from  my  dear  Sister  Warde,  of 
Carlow,  speaking  of  your  intended  Institute,  and  of  the  arrange- 
ments she  intended  to  make  if  called  upon  ;  and  they  seem  to  me 
exceedingly  good.  She  makes  me  perfectly  understand  the  Sisters 
she  designed  to  give,  who  are  truly  desirable.  Some  of  them 
would,  I  thiak,  bring  the  usual  portion.  Indeed,  all  she  proposes, 
Reverend  Sir,  far  exceeds  what  we  could  do;  and  I  am  now  as  ar- 
dent as  my  youthful  Sister,  praying  and  trusting  that  the  good 
work  will  not  be  frustrated.  Very  little  preparation  would  be  l.  i- 
cessary  on  your  part,  dear  Father,  and  we  might  sail  together  for 
Birmingham  and  Liverpool.  I  have  been  speaking  with  Sister 
Fanny  J ,  and  find  that  she  would  go  at  once  with  the  Liver- 
pool foundation.  ,     '"' 

"  Recommending  myself  to  your  charitable  remembrance,      ''^' 

"  I  remain,"  etc.,  etc. 


His  reply,  dated  July  30th,  1841,  is  as  follows: 
"  I  received  your  letter,  and  also  one  from  Father  Maher  mclosing 
one  from  Mrs.  Warde.  At  the  moment  these  letters  arrived  I  was 
preparing  to  write  to  you,  as  I  had  just  returned  from  a  journey  to 
Lancaster  and  Wild  Bank,  where  I  had  been  to  confer  with  his 
lordship  and  the  Qrand  Vicar  on  the  subject  of  a  convent  After 
describing  how  much  I  was  delighted  and  edified  by  all  I  saw  in 
Carlow,  his  lordship's  conclusion  was,  that  he  intended  to  treat 
with  the  mother  house,  and  he  desired  me  to  write  to  Ireland  to 
that  effect.  Just  as  I  was  about  to  execute  this  order,  the  letters 
arrived  from  Ireland.  I  must  again  confer  with  the  Bishop  before 
I  can  give  a  conclusive  answer." 
"  Dr.  Youens  requests  that  I  will  write  again  before  he  sees  tbo 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEf. 


403 


rc88  to  give  him 
lable  of  '•  stones 
istersj  from  some 
gious  trained  di- 
Ae  this  could 
le  wrote  to  Very 


Sister  Warde,  of 
of  the  arrange- 
they  seem  to  me 
rstand  the  Sisters 
Some  of  them 
,  all  she  proposes, 
i  I  am  now  as  ar- 
ng  that  the  good 
ition  would  be  n  >- 
t  sail  together  for 
aking  with  Sister 
ce  with  the  Liver- 

uembrance, 
c,  etc. 

m: 

jer  Maher  mclosing 
jtters  arrived  I  was 
i  from  a  journey  to 
to  confer  with  his 

a  convent  After 
ied  by  all  I  saw  in 

intended  to  treat 
write  to  Ireland  to 
lis  order,  the  letters 
h  the  Bishop  before 

n  before  he  sees  tha 


Bishop,"  says  Mother  McAuIey.  ''  I  shall  be  obliged  to  state 
that  we  have  no  colony  to  give.  If  his  lordship  had  any  consnlta 
lion  with  Dr.  Griffiths,  of  London,  and  Dr.  Walsh,  of  Birmingham, 
they  would  endeavor  to  impress  him  with  the  feeling  that  establish- 
meuts  in  England  ought  to  be  made  from  the  chiei,  or  mother 
lionse  in  Ireland." 

Dr.  Youens  did  not  seem  to  think  bis  Bishop's  answer  conclnsivc, 
and  wrote  again  and  again  to  urge  the  bueincss.  His  lordship, 
who  had  gone  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  delicate  health,  begged  of 
Mother  McAuley  to  await  his  next  decision,  which  was  slow  in 
coming.  "  These  good  Bishops,"  said  she,  "  take  their  own  time 
to  consider  every  little  circumstance,  and  those  who  are  inclined  to 
be  impatient,  like  myself,  had  just  as  well  make  up  their  minds  to 
wait." 

Ycry  Rev.  Dean  Qaffney  consented  to  conduct  the  August  re- 
treat this  year,  but  as  he  became  suddenly  ill,  this  important  duty 
devolved  on  the  Foundress  herself,  who,  when  asked  by  one  of  the 
Sisters  what  Father  would  replace  the  Dean,  pleasantly  replied, 
"  Father  McAuley,  my  dear."  And  well  she  knew  how  to  stimu- 
late the  weary,  encourage  the  weak,  and  keep  up  the  fervor  of  the 
fervent.  She  dwelt  chiefly  on  those  parts  of  our  Lord's  teaching 
best  calculated  to  excite  gratitude  and  love,  thus  to  expand  the 
soul  with  a  generous  desire  of  making  every  possible  return  for 
such  unmerited  goodness.  And  she  made  her  children  clearly  un- 
derstand that  the  end  of  spiritual  as  of  corporal  refection,  is  not 
to  rest  in  the  indulgence  of  it.  not  to  seek  it  for  its  sweetness  only, 
but  to  invigorate  the  soul,  and  to  become  more  capable  of  glorify- 
ing Qod  by  performing  more  efficiently  the  duties  of  our  state. 
Those  who  assisted  at  tliis  retreat  were  favored  indeed.  It  was  the 
last  time  that  Mother  McAuley  led  her  little  flock  into  the  desert, 
as  she  would  say,  to  gain  new  strength  for  the  coming  year. 

She  was  now  far  gone  in  consumption,  but  "  suffer  and  be  si- 
lent" had  ever  been  her  motto  and  her  practice.  In  reply  to  the 
repeated  queries  of  a  spiritual  child,  she  writes  : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  find  by  your  letter  that  they  are  saying  too 
much  about  my  loss  of  health.  My  rather  new  visitant,  a  cough, 
has  been  with  me  very  constantly.    To  please  my  kind  tormentors 


mmm 


401 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  M^ AULET. 


I  took  a  large  bottle  of  medicine,  and  put  on  a  blister,  from  which, 
for  want  of  faith,  perhaps,  I  did  not  receive  any  benefit.  I  am 
now  doctoring  myself  as  I  doctored  my  Mary  Teresa — warm  flan- 
nel, barley  water,  a  little  h  ppo  at  night  ;  and  I  think,  Mr.  Time 
taken  mto  account,  I  am  doing  very  well.  I  am  now  hiding  from 
the  doctor,  who  is  gone  np  to  four  influenza  patients.  When  I  re- 
turned from  my  last  journey.  Father  O'Hanlon  exclaimed,  as  he 
entered  the  parlor,  '  Oh,  my  dear,  how  well  you  look,  thank 
God  I'  By  this  you  will  see  that  he  does  not  urge  change  of 
air." 

The  last  gleam  of  comfort  vouchsafed  her  on  earth,  was  the  joy- 
ful intelligence  of  the  confirmation  of  the  Rules  and  Constitntions> 
which  reached  her  July,  1841,  though  not  officially  communicated 
for  some  weeks  later.  This  speedy  confirmation  excited  universal 
surprise,  the  Order  not  being  yet  ten  years  old.  "  How  was  it  ob- 
tained  ?"  was  the  question  heard  on  all  sides.  Certainly,  many 
kind  friends  of  the  Institute,  in  Rome  and  elsewhere,  used  their  in- 
fluence in  its  favor,  but  greater  efforts  had  been  made,  and  made 
nnsuccessfully,  to  obtain  the  confirmation  of  other  Orders.  Apart 
from  the  will  of  Him  who  holds  in  His  hands  the  hearts  of  pope^ 
as  well  as  of  kings,  we  may  venture  to  conjecture  one  cause  of  this 
speedy  recognition  :  that  Church  which  regards  the  poor  as  her 
treasures,  and  which  commands  emperors  and  kings  to  celebrate  the 
festivals  of  beggars  and  slaves,  could  not  long  withhold  its  sanction 
ftom  an  Order  specially  devoted  to  the  poor. 

In  August,  the  Sisters  for  Birmingham  were  professed.  Several 
distinguished  persons  came  from  England  to  witness  the  ceremony, 
among  whom  were  Dr.  Pusey,  the  celebrated  Hebrew  Professor  of 
Oxford,  and  his  accomplished  daughter.  He  spoke  much  of  illu- 
minated works,  and  expressed  himself  greatly  pleased  with  the  ex- 
quisite specimens  of  the  ancient  Church  art  of  illumination  exe- 
cuted by  the  Sisters  of  St.  Mary's  ;  so  much  so,  that  Reverend 
Mother  expresses  great  regret  in  a  letter,  because  she  had  not  the 
.  Baggot-street  Register,  then  loaned  to  Carlow,  and  which  is  a  pe^ 
feet  gem  of  that  art,  to  show  him. 

News  reaching  Dublin  that  Mr.  Hardmau,  who  had  built  and 
endowed  tao  convent  in  Birmingham,  was  dying,  this  impelled  the 


i» 


T. 


LIFE  OF  OATHBBINE  M^AULEr. 


405 


lister,  from  which, 
ly  bonefit.  I  am 
.f(^ga — warm  flan- 
:  think,  Mr.  Time 
1  now  hiding  from 
>nt3.  When  I  re- 
exclaimed,  as  he 
yoa  look,  thank 
)t  arge  change  of 

arth,  was  the  joy- 
and  Constitutions* 
ally  communicated 
I  excited  universal 
"  How  was  it  ob- 
.  Certainly,  many 
here,  used  their  in- 
n  made,  and  made 
ier  Orders.  Apart 
the  hearts  of  popes 
PC  one  cause  of  this 
is  the  poor  as  her 
ings  to  celebrate  the 
withhold  its  sanction 

professed.  Several 
itncss  the  ceremony, 
Sebrcw  Professor  of 
spoke  much  of  illu- 
pleased  with  the  ex- 
of  illumination  exe- 
h  so,  that  Reverend 
luse  she  had  not  the 
r,  and  which  is  a  per- 

,  who  had  built  and 
ng,  this  impelled  the 


Foundress  to  hasten  the  departure  of  the  missioners,  that  his  child, 
Sister  M.  Juliana  Hardmau,  might  arrive  In  time  to  soothe  his  last 
moments.  Sister  M.  Cecilia  Marmioa  was  appointed  temporary 
Superior  of  this  colony.  In  the  following  letter  the  Foundress  al- 
ludes to  her  : —  ,» 

"  Sister  M.  Cecilia,  you  know,  is  a  general  favorite.  Perhaps 
there  never  was  a  more  beloved  Mistress  of  Novices.  They  call 
the  noviceship  '  Paradise,'  though  the  best  discipline  is  kept  up. 
Iler  going  will  make  it  easier  for  any  novice  or  postnlante  to  be 
removed,  and  will  be  another  great  blow  to  poor  Baggot-street, 
which  has  already  passed  through  so  many  sorrows.  Dean  Gaff- 
ney  saw  Mr.  Hardman  in  his  bed.  He  said  if  he  lived  only  an 
hour  after  our  arrival  he  would  be  happy.  The  whole  family  have 
been  such  generous  friends,  that  Bishop  Walsh  writes  to  Dr.  Mur* 
ray  begging  there  may  not  be  any  more  delay.  Young  Mr.  Hard- 
man  gave  fifteen  hundred  pounds  for  the  Cathedral,  and  purchased 
an  organ,  at  the  expense  of  five  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  for  the 
Convent.  The  Dean  promised  the  good  old  father  that  he  would 
bring  him  his  nice  child,  and  he  sails  with  us  on  Friday. 

"  Poor  Sister  Fanny  G had  a  sorrowful  letter  coming  out  of 

retreat.  She  is  a  delicate  ci'cature,  and  looks  as  thin  as  a  ghost, 
since  she  read  the  sad  communication.  As  a  source  of  great  con- 
solation, I  have  promised  to  take  her  to  England.  She  will  see 
her  poor,  afflicted  parents  ;  and  her  father,  seeing  his  very  sweet 
child  in  the  Religious  dress,  may  be  inspired  to  do  for  Liverpool 
what  Mr.  Hardman  has  done  for  Birmingham." 

Who  will  say  that  the  wrijter  of  the  last  sentence  had  not  a  large 
share  of  the  prudence  of  the  serpent  ? 

"  Her  spirit  willing"  to  do  great  things  for  God,  though  her 
"  flesh  was  weak,"  and  "  the  time  of  her  dissolution  at  hand,"  she 
set  out  fot  Birmingham,  not  in  fear  and  trembling,  as  she  had  an- 
ticipated, but  with  the  most  lively  joy,  for  she  felt  that  once  re- 
turned, she  would  not  leave  St.  Mary's  again.  In  its  little  cem- 
etery she  would  soon  repose,  among  the  precious  remains  of  the 
Sisters  she  loved  so  well,  till  the  last  trumpet  should  summon  her 
to  hear  her  well-merited  doom  :  "  Come  ye  blessed  of  My  Pal  her, 
possess  the  Kingdom  prepared  for  you.     For  I  was  hungry,  and 


406 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


jou  gave  Me  to  cat.  I  was  thirsty,  and  you  gave  Me  to  drink ; 
naked,  and  you  covered  Me  ;  sick,  aud  you  visited  Mu.  I  was  in 
prison,  and  you  came  to  Me.  Amen,  amen,  I  say  to  you  ;  as  long 
as  you  did  it  to  one  of  these.  My  least  brethren,  you  did  it  to  me." 

A  little  before  her  departure  for  Birmingham,  she  received  a 
pressing  Invitation  to  try  Carlow  air,  which  Dr.  Fitzgerald  de- 
clared would  exhilarate  and  strengthen  her.  She  returned  this 
noble  answer,  worthy  of  the  whole  life  of  Catherine  McAuley : 

"  It  would  be  delightful  to  me  to  accept  your  kind  invitation  to 
St.  Leo's,  but  thmk  of  all  that  must  be  left  behind.  They  would 
feel  it  very  much,  indeed.  It  is  quite  impossible  for  one  in  my 
situation  to  think  of  pleasing  herself.  My  pleasure  must  ever 
consist  in  endeavoring  to  please  all." 

In  a  letter  dated  Birmingham,  September,  she  says  : 

"  We  got  here  about  four,  Saturday  evening,  and  had  scarcely 
time  to  change  our  dress,  when  we  were  summoned  to  the  choir, 
where  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Wiseman,  in  full  pontificals,  recited  the 
Te  Deum,  said  a  few  animating  words,  and  concluded  with  a  fer- 
vent prayer  for  the  aid  of  Almighty  God.  Tlie  convent  a  ')eau,.- 
ful,  and  fully  furnished  for  twenty  Sisters.  Mr.  Pngin  would  not 
permit  cloth  of  any  kind  on  the  parlors.  We  have  rash  chairs 
and  oak  tables,  and  all  is  so  admirable  and  religious,  that  no  want 
can  be  felt.  The  building  cost  but  three  thousand  pounds.  I 
would  say  six  without  hesitation.  We  were  most  happily  cu*cam- 
Btanced  while  travelling,  nine  of  us.  Father  O'Hanlon  came  with 
us.  Dean  Qaffney  was  our  angel  guardian,  and  Dr.  Brown,  ^ishop 
of  Eilmore,  who  is  going  to  Leamington — ^not  one  stranger  amongst 
us.  The  convent  bell  weighs  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  It  is 
hard  work  to  ring  it.  The  ceiling  of  the  choir  is  very  beautiful, 
the  walls  all  blue  and  gold.  The  stained  glass  windows  have 
Merct  in  every  type  and  character  over  them.  Indeed,  we  may 
say  we  are  surrounded  with  Merct. 

"Old  Mr.  Hardman,  whose  death  was  expected,  has  rallied 
wonderfully.    They  are  a  most  holy  family." 

Bat  we  must  now  leave  the  Foundress  in  Birmingham,  and  relate 
some  events  passing  south  of  it,  painfully  interesting  to  her  and 
her  Institute. 


e  Me  to  drink ; 
1  Mo.    I  was  in 
to  you  ;  as  long 
'ou  did  it  to  me." 
1,  she  received  a 
r.  Fitzgerald  de- 
she  returned  this 
ine  McAuley : 
kind  invitation  to 
ind.    They  would 
le  for  one  in  my 
^asure  must  ever 

says : 

and  had  scarcely 
)ned  to  the  choir, 
itificals,  recited  the 
.eluded  with  a  fer- 
«  convent  is  ')eau-- 
,  Pugin  would  not 
have  rush  chairs 
;ious,  that  no  want 
)usand  pounds.    I 
jst  happily  circum- 
Haulon  came  with 
Dr.  Brown,  Bishop 
e  stranger  amongst 
Bfty  pounds.    It  is 
if  is  very  beautiful, 
lass'  windows  have 
Indeed,  we  may 

ipected,  has  ralUed 

mingham,  and  relate 
eresting  to  her  and 


WH 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

Botiirn  of  the  London  SuperioreBS.— Innovations  and  roformationg.— Unfkvor- 
sblu  Report  by  an  £ngligh  priest. — Very  Kev.  Dr  Batter  congratulates  him- 
self on  being  independent  of  "borrowed  plv  nes." — Sto'-iy  nationality. — 
Forbearr>nco  of  the  Foundress. — Visions.— Bishop  Baines. — "  Where  Paul 
and  I  differ." — The  lady  who  has  had  the  visions  secedes.— She  goes  to  Rome. 
—Is  protected  by  Cardinals  Acton  and  Frnnsone. — Sho  gives  her  revelations 
in  a  Catholic  novel.— The  "Solitaires"  and  "Handmaids"  disperse.— Their 
projector  writes  another  story. — Why  did  she  leave  na  f 

IN  June,  1841,  Mother  McAuley  had  the  consolation  of  seeing 
her  "beloved  old  companion.  Sister  M.  Clare,"  whom  Dr. 
Butler  accompanied  to  Dublin,  where  Bishop  Murphy  received  her. 
"  The  Bishop  of  Cork  met  her  here,"  writes  the  Foundress,  "  and 
is  quite  proud  of  her  return.  He  sayii  she  must  come  home  di- 
rectly, and  adds,  what  I  have  no  recoKection  of,  that  I  promitied 
to  let  the  other  S.  M.  Clare  go  to  Cork,  to  do  some  wonderful 
things  for  him.  So  our  artist*  goes,  too.  He  made  it  imperative, 
and  I  dare  not  venture  to  contend  with  his  lordship." 

As  Rev.  Mother  predicted,  a  change  in  the  government  of  the 
London  House  proved  dangerous,  indeed  ;  but  God,  who  watched 
o?cr  its  interests,  protected  it.  And  though  the  new  Superioress 
was  the  medium  through  which  innovations  were  attempted,  the 
community,  in  general,  were  faithful  to  their  vocation,  as  Sisters  of 
Mercy,  and  anxious  to  maifttain  the  spirit  of  their  Rule,  which  had 
just  received  the  highest  sanction,  that  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ. 

To. reform  an  Order  is  an  ungracious  work  even  for  a  Saint;  and 
such  as  hare  been  inspired  to  accomplish  so  gigantic  an  undertak- 
ing, have  usually  been  endowed  with  uncommon  gifts  of  grace  and 
nature.  But  reformation  simply  means  the  restoration  of  primitive 
fervor,  the  keeping  of  the  rules  aid  observances  kept  in  the  days  of 


*  "  Our  artist :"  a  Sister  wlio  painted  and  illumlDated  beautifully. 


408 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBmE  HCAULET. 


the  fonnder.  No  Order  is  warranted  in  aspiring  to  more  than  this, 
no  Superior  has  a  right  to  enforce  more,  no  subject  is  obliged  to 
obey  when  more  is  enforced.  "  Oh,  golden  age  of  Romnald !" 
sighs  a  Camaldolese  writer;  he  knows  he  can  aspire  to  nothing 
higher.  But  the  Order  of  Mercy  was  still  in  its  infancy,  still  In  its 
"  golden  age."  If  any  of  its  members  had  "  inspirations,"  snch  in* 
epirations  ought  to  agree  with,  or,  at  least,  not  contradict  the 
Rules  and  Constitation  just  confirmed  by  the  Holy  See.  Should 
doubts  as  to  their  interpretation  arise,  the  Foandress  was  still 
living,  and  she  whom  the  Church  described  as  "  most  religious,"* 
would  surely  be  able,  ex  officio,  to  clear  them  up.  Innovations 
were  not  to  be  tolerated,  for  deviations  from  the  will  of  the  Foan- 
dress, as  expressed  in  the  rules  she  wrote,  and  the  observances  she 
established,  cannot  be  considered  otherwise  than  as  deviations  from 
the  will  of  Him  who  inspired  her:  God  will  not  contradict  His 
Church,  for  this  would  be  to  contradict  Himself.  And  though  the 
visions  which  impel  any  person  to  innovate  upon  or  change  the 
Rules  confirmed  by  the  Church  and  the  observances  by  which  the 
Foundress  interprets  these  Rules,  may  be  very  specious,  the  re- 
ceiver ought  to  remember  that  Satan  can  transform  himself  into  an 
angel  of  light.  In  this  case,  the  Religious  who  had  "  visions"  pro- 
posed the  establishment  of  perpetual  adoration,  while  the  duties 
already  impo^ied  by  the  Rule  which  says,  "  the  Sisters  are  continu- 
ally employed  in  the  spiritual  and  corporal  wor"  s  of  mercy,"  did 
not  give  leisure  for  more  spiritual  exercises  than  those  observed 
from  the  beginning.  The  ingenious  visionary  also  suggested  that 
the  Sisters  should  be  permitted  to  follow  their  respective  attraUi^ 
as  they  might  happen  to  incline  to  action  or  contemplation,  but  the 
Rule  said  :  "  The  daily  duties  are  the  same  for  all ;  the  manner  of  | 
performing  them  alone  distinguishes  one  from  the  other." 

Yisions  from  God  are  discerned  to  be  such  by  direct  superiors,  i 
especially  the  Confessor,  the  Bishop,  and,  in  case  of  a  Religious,  the 
Foundress  or  her  successors.    But  here,  though  all  three  were 
versed  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  high  spirituality,  the  Bishop 
vetoed  the  proposed  "improvements"  at  once;  the  Confessor,  in  a  I 

*  Kelif^osissimss  prffisertim  fcniioB  Catharinn  MooAuIey  studio  fun(UU.— 
J)taretum.~Sor0ruM  itMritordim, 


r. 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


409 


0  more  than  this, 
5ct  is  obliged  to 
B  of  Romualdl" 
apire  to  nothing 
infancy,  still  in  ita 
)irations,"  such  in- 
it  contradict  the 
[olySee.    Should 
mndreas  was  still 
'most  religious,"* 
up.    Innovations 
,  will  of  the  Foun- 
be  observances  she 
as  deviations  from 
not  contradict  His 
'.    And  though  the 
ipon  or  change  the 
ranees  by  which  the 
ry  specious,  the  re- 
form himself  into  an 
)  had  "visions"  pro- 
)n,  while  the  duties 
Sisters  areconttnu- 
or*  s  of  mercy,"  ^d 
.ban  those  observed 
r  also  suggested  that 
r  respective  cUtraits, 
)ntemplation,  bat  the 
,r  all ;  the  manner  of 
the  other." 

by  direct  superiors, 
aeofaReUgious,the| 

lOugh  aU  three  were 
drituality,  the  Bishop 
the  Confessor,  in  a 
jAuley  rtudio  fuiMtato.- 


little  time,  suspected  delusion,  and  speedily  acted  on  his  suspicions; 
and  the  Foundress,  whose  humility  made  her  shrink  from  giving 
her  opinion  as  to  the  more  supernatural  part  of  the  affair,  said 
quite  enough  in  these  few  words  :  "  Sister  A is  given  to  ex- 
tremes in  matters  of  piety — that  is  her  greatest  error." 

How  any  person  of  understanding  and  piety  could  attempt  to 
change  the  rules  and  observances  of  an  Order  just  confirmed  by 
the  Holy  See,  and  whose  Foundress  was  still  living,  is  a  marvel. 
For  such  a  person  must  have  known  that  her  subjects' were  not 
only  not  obliged  to  obey  her  in  this,  but  positively  obliged  to  diso- 
liey  her.  For  every  command  of  a  Superior,  in  order  to  be  obliga- ' 
tory  on  the  subject,  must  be  accompanied  by  three  conditions  :  1. 
It  must  be  not  sinful,  for  Qod  does  not  give  any  one  authority  to 
command  what  is  opposed  to  His  service.  2.  It  must  be  good  in 
itself,  or  at  least  an  indifferent  thing  imposed  for  a  good  object. 
3.  It  must  be  not  only  good,  but  conformable  to  rule.  Hence,  if 
the  Superior  commands  a  thing  opposed  to  the  rule,  or  above  the 
rule,  that  is,  more  rigorons  than  the  rule,  or  below  the  rule,  that  is, 
less  rigorous  than  the  rule,  the  subject  is  not  bound  to  obey.  This 
is  the  doctrine  of  approved  writers  on  the  subject.  "  Let  the  com- 
mand of  the  Superior,"  says  St.  Bernard,  "  keep  within  the  limits 
of  my  profession  ;  let  it  neither  rise  higher  nor  sink  lower;  let  him 
not  hinder  the  accomplishment  of  what  I  have  promised,  but  let 
hira  demand  nothing  more  of  me;  let  him  add  nothing  without  my 
consent,  and  let  him  diminish  nothing  without  great  necessity."* 
And  the  same  Saint,  speaking  of  commands  in  which  Superiors  ex- 
ceed their  authority,  says,  that  if  we  were  obliged  to  this  kind  of 
obedience,  it  was  useless  for  the  Apostle  to  say,  "Prove  all 
things,  and  hold  to  what  is  good;"  and  that  we  onght  to  efface 
from  the  Gospel  the  words,  "  Be  prudent  as  serpents,"  if  thoso 
which  follow  them,  "  Be  simple  as  doves,"  suffice.f 

The  authority  of  the  Superior  being  always  limited  by  the  estab- 
lished rules  and  observances,  she  to  obliged  to  enforce  these,  as  she 

*  "  Preloti  joAsio  rel  prohibitio  uon  pmtereac  termiaos  profeuionia,"  etc. — 
J>*  Pt<»<!tp.  tt  ditptnt,  c  8. 

t  Bern.  Epist.  7.  /" 

18 


^ 


wmm 


410 


LIFE  or  CATHERINE  MCAULBT. 


is  obliged  to  observe  them,  but  can  neither  add  to  nor  sabtract 
from  them. 

Now  all  this  the  lady  to  whom  we  refer  mast  have  known,  or  at 
least  must  have  learned  in  her  novitiate.  The  very  terms  of  her 
TOW  of  obedience,  which  was  made  ^'according  to  the  approved 
Hide  and  Constitutions  of  her  Order,^'  must  have  taaght  her 
this.  And  probably  had  she  not  had  "  visions,"  she  had  never  at- 
tempted innovation.  •;.  K    . 

Bat  even  this  was  not  enough;  if  the  direct  Superiors  do  not  m- 
cognize  the  inspiration,  taere  is  ordinarily  no  obligation  to  act  on 
it,  and  it  could  not  in  her  case  bo  acted  on  without  their  consent. 

But,  if  the  ordinary  director  do  not  recognize  the  inspiration, 
another  may  be  more  lenient ;  and,  by  a  strange  fatality,  poor 
human  nature  usually  prefers  what  best  accords  with  the  ideas 
suggested,  naturally  or  snpematurally,  though  not  necessarily 
divinely. 

The  brilliant  Cardinal  Wiseman  gives  this  comprehensive  glance 
at  the  late  Bishop  Baines  : 

"  He  had  a  power  of  fascinating  all  who  approached  him,  in 
spite  of  a  positive  tone  and  manner  which  scarcely  admitted  of  dif- 
ference from  him  in  opinion.  He  had  sometimes  original  views  on 
a  certain  class  of  subjects  ;  but  on  every  topic  he  had  a  command 
of  language,  and  a  clear  manner  of  expressing  his  sentiments, 
which  commanded  respect,  and  generally  won  assent.  Hence,  his 
acquaintances  were  always  willing  listeners,  and  soon  became  sin- 
cere admirers,  then  warm  partisans.  Unfortunately,  this  proved  to 
him  a  fatal  gift.  Assent  to  his  plans  was  the  condition  of  being 
near  him  :  any  one  that  did  not  agree,  or  that  ventured  to  suggest 
deliberation,  or  provoke  discussion,  was  soou  at  a  distance.  He 
isolated  himself  with  his  own  genius  ;  he  had  no  counsellor  but 
himself ;  and  he,  who  had  at  one  time  surrounded  himself  with 
men  of  learning,  of  pmdence,  and  of  devotedness  to  him,  found 
himself  at  last  alone,  and  fretted  a  noble  heart  to  a  solitary 
death."*  -: .;J™-„-.^,.. 

Perhaps,  we  may  say,  without  disparagement  to  the  higher  and 

*  "  BeooUeotions  of  the  Four  Lwt  Popes,"  p.  282. 


; 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINB  MCAULEr. 


411 


,0  nor  sabtract 

,ve  known,  or  at 
ry  terms  of  her 
lo  the  approved 
lave  taught  her 
ihe  had  never  at- 

jeriors  do  not  re- 
igation  to  act  on 
It  their  consent, 
the  inspiration, 
ge  fatality,  poor 
ia  with  the  ideas 
I  DOt  necessarily 

iprehensive  glance 

)proached  him,  in 
y  admitted  of  ^f- 
original  views  on 
le  had  a  command 
g  his  sentiments, 
isent.    Hence,  his 
soon  became  sin- 
sly,  this  proved  to 
;ondition  of  being 
ntnred  to  saggest 
it  a  distance.    He 
no  counsellor  but 
nded  himself  with 
ess  to  him,  found 
jart  to  a  solitary 

to  the  higher  and 

p.  292. 


better  powers  of  Dr.  Baines,  that  such  a  prelate,  though  a  Bene> 
dictine,  was  not  the  best  director  in  the  world  for  one  "  given  to 
extremes  in  matters  of  piety." 

But  it  often  happens  that  the  recipient  of  "extraordinary 
favors"  (?)  will  not  choose  to  acquiesce  in  the  decision  of  a  direct 
superior,  unless  the  decision  agree  with  the  "  revelation."  It  will 
be  understood,  that  whatever  we  say  here  refers  not  to  such  extra- 
ordinary things  as  are  proved  in  the  proper  manner  to  be  of  divine 
origin,  but  such  as  are  produced  by  the  human  or  the  diabolical 
spirit,  or  a  union  of  both  ;  for  the  devil,  whom  a  holy  Father 
aptly  calls  "  the  ape  of  God,"  has  often  given  evidence  of  much 
power  in  this  respect,  though  it  is  seldom  a  matter  of  difficnlty  for 
the  learned  to  discern  by  certain  signs  whether  he  is  the  origin  of 
any  given  supernatural  illumination,  etc.,  or  not. 

Now  it  is  very  absurd  for  any  one  to  prefer  the  vagaries  of  her 
own  imagination  to  the  calm  judgment  of  an  enUghtened  director ; 
it  is  so  absurd  that  we  can  hardly  imagine  it,  except  in  a  person 
who  cares  not  if  she  is  deceived,  when  the  delusion  is  pleasing. 
And,  as  it  is  better  to  smile  at  absurdity  than  to  lose  one's  temper 
over  it,  persons  of  such  a  class  will  excuse  us  for  hinting  that  they 
remind  us,  very  distantly,  of  course,  of  an  ancient  lady,  whose  elo- 
quence at  "  class-meetings"  was  the  admiration  of — herself. 

This  venerable  maiden  determined  to  give  up  her  former  "  way 
of  thinking,"  though  not  of  preaching,  applied  to  be  received  into 
the  Catholic  Church,  informing  the  priest  that  she  designed  to 
make  prayers  and  orations  for  the  good  of  the  brethren  every  Sab- 
bath, as  the  Spirit  might  move  her.  Notwithstanding  the  admira- 
tion he  must  have  felt  for  the  zeal  which  excited  her  to  give  to  the 
world  the  full  benefit  of  her  ready  oratory,  he  was  obliged  to  io- 
form  her  that  his  Church  did  not  allow  women  tu  exercise  the 
fanctioti  of  preaching  in  public.  But,  as  the  bashful  vestal  ob- 
jected strongly  to  every  thing  he  urged  in  defence  of  this  point 
of  discipline,  he  quoted  St.  Paul,  innocently  sopposing  that  she 
was  willing  to  abide  by  the  Bible,  which  she  grasped  in  her 
shrivelled  hands.  Whereupon,  striking  the  blessed  book  with  the 
index  finger,  she  exclaimed,  with  terrible  emphasis :  .  .»^;  ,i, 

"But,  my  dear  sir,  therms  where  Paul  and  I  differ  I"        i^     i 


■  ■,iyill(lt'K"'-.fililMl. 


412 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


It  is  thus  with  the  victims  of  delusion.  It  is  little  nse  to  quote 
Paul,  or  a  higher  than  Paul,  if  he  and  they  "  differ." 

The  lady  who,  in  this  Instance,  desired  to  introduce  novelties, 
was  a  convert,  of  that  high  burth*  which  adds  lustre  to  the  sacri- 
fice made  in  quitting  the  world,  when  she  who  makes  it  says,  with 
her  heart  as  with  her  lips  :  "  The  empire  of  this  world,  and  all  the 
glory  thereof,  I  have  despised  for  the  love  of  my  Lord  Je8ns."f 
She  had  already  seen  more  than  forty  summers  ;  her  intellect  wr.s 
beyond  the  average;  she  wrote  with  ease,  and  sometimes  with 
elegance  ;  her  accomplishments  were  numerous  ;  she  spoke  several 
languages,  sang,  played  on  many  instruments,  and  painted,  in  a 
style  that  some  professors  might  envy.  And,  to  do  her  justice, 
she  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  category  of  those  who  are  "  deprived 
of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  for  having  eaten  too  greedily  of  the 
tree  of  knowledge."  In  appearance  she  was  plain,  but  every  one 
agreed  that  "  the  beauty  of  the  king's  daughter  was  within."  As 
to  manner,  she  seemed  a  perfect  Religious,  and  that,  in  Reverend 
Mother's  vocabulary,  included  a  perfect  gentlewoman.  We  meet 
with  one  passage  in  the  Foundress'  letters,  in  which  she  regrets 

the  necessity  there  exists  of  taking  down  some  of  Sister  A- ^"s 

*'  self-importance  with  regard  to  opinion  ;"  but  every  thing  else 

said  in  them  is  in  praise  of  Sister  A .    Would  that  she  had 

used  her  gifts  more  for  the  glory  of  the  Giver  I 

The  desire  to  introduce  duties  incompatible  with  the  Rule,  is 
nothing  new  in  the  hi';cory  of  Religious  Orders.  Thus  Orviedo  and 
Onofrio  wished  to  become  hermits,  and  still  retain  the  title  of 
Jesuits,  but  there  they  and  St.  Ignatius  differed.  Thus  Manda- 
rini  wanted  to  improve  on  St.  Liguori's  views,  but  there  also  he 
and  the  saint  differed.  In  these  caKes  the  delusions  were  very 
specious,  nevertheless  the  two  saints  quickly  discovered  the  ruse. 
If  people  want,  as  they  somelimes  would  pretend  to  make  as  un- 
derstand, something  more  perfect  than  the  rule  the  Church  of 
God  approves  for  them,  the  more  honorable  course  is  to  quit  the 


*  Hardly  high  euough,  however,  to  justify  the  frequent  allusions  made  to  It 
in  her  works,  which,  to  say  Uio  least,  cannot  be  considered  in  very  good  tute. 
t  *'  Btgnum  mutidi,"  eto.    ProfeMion  oeremoulal. 


■  .»»»»«i»M»»(««KBWMiaii^!|||i^^ 


,^„^^ 


5T. 


LIFE  OP  OATHEBINE  MOAULBT. 


418 


little  use  to  quote 
•er." 

itroduce  novelties, 
lustre  to  the  Bacri- 
Qakes  it  says,  with 
world,  and  all  the 
my  Lord  Jesus."t 
;  her  intellect  wr.s 
d  sometimes  with 
she  spoke  several 
and  painted,  in  a 
to  do  her  justice, 
ffho  are  "  deprived 
too  greedily  of  the 
lain,  but  every  one 
■  was  within."  As 
I  that,  in  Reverend 
woman.  We  meet 
I  which  she  regrets 

I  of  Sister  A ^"s 

it  every  thing  else 
rould  that  she  had 

B  with  the  Rule,  is 
Thus  Orviedo  and 
retain  the  title  of 
red.  Thus  Manda- 
1,  but  there  also  he 
lelusions  were  very 
liscovered  the  ruse, 
nd  to  make  as  un- 
rule  the  Chnrch  of 
)urse  is  to  quit  the 

lent  allusions  made  to  it 
ired  ia  very  good  tate. 


Order,  and  not  to  remain  within  it  to  injure,  if  they  cannot  sub* 
vert  it. 

Now,  the  Rules,  the  common  life,  the  perfection  which  consists 
in  "  performing  extraordinarily  well  the  ordinary  exercises  of  every 
day" — this  was  all  Reverenii  Mother  ever  directed  the  Sisters  to 
aspire  to.  This  was  the  will  of  God  in  their  regard.  "  I  had 
rather  assist  my  neighbor  than  be  rapt  in  ecstacy,"  said  a  great 
contemplative,*  "because  in  an  ecstacy  God  assists  me,  but  in 
serving  my  neighbor,  I  assist  Him."  With  far  greater  reason 
should  a  Sister  of  Mercy  make  a  similar  selection.  Mother  McAu- 
ley  wished  all  her  children  to  be  saints,  but  she  was  not  ambitious 
that  some  should  "  appear  before  men"  ecdowed  with  greater  gifts 
than  others  ;  and  she  thought  it  a  very  good  mortification  for  the 
strong  to  wait  sweetly  for  the  weak,  and  accommodate  their  pace 
to  that  of  the  weary  and  sickly,  as  Jacob  slackened  his  speed 
through  compassion  for  the  children  and  lambs  that  brought  np  the 
rear  of  his  Oriental  cortege.  When  she  praises  a  Sister  in  particu- 
lar, it  is  not  for  severe  discipline,  high  contemplation,  extraordinary 
fasts,  prolonged  vigils.  These  are  excellent  things,  but  from  their 
very  nature  they  cannot  be  always  and  universally  practised  in  any 
Religious  house,  still  less  if  such  house  be  occupied  by  "  Sisters  of 
Mercy,  whose  charity  is  their  inclosiire,  while  for  the  love  of 
their  Heavenly  Spouse,  in  His  poor  and  suffering  members,  they 
deny  themselves  the  peace  and  protection  of  a  cioiscer."f  But 
she,,  praises  for  exact  observance  of  Rule,  and  she  inatrccts  her 
children  to  emulate  the  virtues  of  the  saints,  not  their  extraordi- 
nary actions.  Her  letters  abound  in  such  paasages  as  the  follow- 
ing :  "  Little  Sister  M.  De  Sales  is  well  versed  in  all  our  ways,  and 
very  faithful  to  her  vocation."  "  Sister  M.  Aloysia  is  most  humble 
and  edifying  ;  in  the  most  trying  circumstances  she  is  never  moved. 
She  l^ibors  incessantly  for  the  objects  of  the  Institnto."  "  Sister 
M.  Teresa  i«  proving  that  she  profited  of  the  advantages  she  re- 
ceived. She  's  now  laboring  ut  the  manuscript,  and  though  she 
cannot  do  it  in  the  very  btst  style,  she  is  so  anxious  that  I  am 
forced  to  appear  content."     "  Sister  Teresa  '  the  Less'  is  doing 


*■  iialDt  Mary  Maj^dalen  di  Paxzi. 


t  Faber. 


■wr 


414 


UFE  OF  OATHEBmS  MOAULET. 


great  good  among  the  poor."  "  Sister  M.  Clare  teaches  me,  hj  her 
example,  what  gcnaine  meekness  and  hamility  are."  "  I  hear  great 
accounts  of  Sister  M.  Josephine's  prudence,  and  nice,  regular  ex- 
ample. I  saw  all  that  was  amiable  in  her  character."  And  as  a 
preparation  to  enter  a  new  house  with  a  renovated  spirit,  she  does 
not  prescribe  extraordinary  fasts  and  novenas,  bnt  a  more  perfect 
obserranco  of  the  common  regulations.  Thus  she  writes  :  "  It  is 
gratifying  to  hear  that  you  are  to  hare  the  comfort  of  entering 
your  new  convent  in  May.  Yon  will  all  be  making  a  fervent  pre- 
paration for  that  happy  event,  and  draw  down  upon  yourselves  the 
blcssmgs  of  heaven,  by  observing  all  the  regulations,  and  by  a  cau- 
tiousy  salutary  fear  of  every  departure  from  rule  and  observance. 
Then  will  God  make  yonr  house  His  own,  and  love  to  dwell  among 
you." 

She  did  not  undervalue  the  extraordinary  things  that  often  ac- 
company or  form  an  element  in  heroic  sanctity,  bat  she  preferred 
the  common  life  to  the  working  of  miracles,  and  she  thought,  with 
the  great  masters  of  spiritual  science,  that  only  stem  necessity 
shonld  compel  one  to  speak  of  such  things  in  connection  with  self. 
"  My  secret  to  myself"  was  her  motto,  and  so  well  did  she  practice 
that  beautiful  "  reserve"  she  constantly  inculcated,  that  though  it 
was  only  when  her  weak  arms  refused  to  tortare  her  dying  frame, 
that  she  laid  aside  the  "  discipline"  wet  with  her  blood,  yet  it  was 
after  death  that  her  wounded  shoulders  and  lacerated  feet  bore 
eloquent  testimony  to  a  degree  of  bodily  mortification  her  most 
confidential  companions  never  suspected  till  all  danger  of  paining 
her  humility  and  "  reserve"  was  past  forever  I 

The  following  letter  will  show  that  she  d'  '  hj-  Cecm  it  in  ac- 
cordance with  religious  modesty  to  speak  c  t  .'  too  much  on 
•'the  delectations"  experienced  in  prayer,  the  ui  p,  tif ace  to  "con- 
summate the  sacrifice,"  the  boiling  fervor  which  may  be  in  some 
danger  of  boiling  over,  &c. : 

"  My  dear  Sister,  accept  my  thanks  for  your  kind  note,  which 
was  quite  cheering.  You  are  timely  in  thinking  of  your  profession, 
and  I  feel  satisfied  you  will  make  duo  preparation  for  it,  and  that 
you  will  never  be  unworthy  of  so  great  a  favor.  But  I  expect  to 
see  in  all  my  dear  Sister  novices,  a  sweet,  holy  reserve,  which  will 


-^MW 


IT. 

teaches  me,  by  her 
e."  "I  hear  great 
[  nice,  regular  ex- 
cter."  And  as  a 
ed  spirit,  she  does 
but  a  more  perfect 
ihe  writes  :  "  It  is 
jmfort  of  entering 
ling  a  fervent  pre- 
ipon  yourselves  the 
ions,  and  by  a  cau- 
lie  and  observance. 
ove  to  dwell  among 

ings  that  often  ac- 
',  but  she  preferred 
1  she  thought,  with 
)nly  stem  necessity 
onnection  with  self, 
well  did  she  practice 
,ted,  that  though  it 
ire  her  dying  frame, 
,er  blood,  yet  it  was 
lacerated  feet  bore 
rtiflcation  her  most 
1  danger  of  paining 

jiur  deem  it  in  ao- 

■Ki  f  too  much  on 

uiipvtiface  to  "con- 

ich  ma)  be  in  some 

>nr  kind  note,  which 
ng  of  your  profession, 
ition  for  it,  and  that 
or.  But  I  expect  to 
ily  reserve,  which  will 


LIFE  OF  OATHKBINli^  UOA.VLET. 


415 


bo  as  a  shield  around  them.  This  word  '  reserve'  is  extensively 
useful  for  meditation.  If  we  acquire  Religions  reserve,  we  shall 
never  speak  too  much,  write  too  much,  grieve  too  much,  laugh  too 
much ;  and  when  we  do  all  things  in  due  order,  and  do  not  exceed 
in  any,  then  a  good  foundation  will  be  laid  for  advancement  in  re- 
ligious perfection.  May  God  grant  to  ns  all  this  beautiful  reserve, 
that  restrains  words,  looks,  and  actions,  and  continually  whispers  : 
'Go  back,  stop,  say  no  more."  It  is  of  immense  value,  and 
greatly  to  be  desired. 

"  I  mast  select  a  nice  postulant  for  yon,  and  endeavor  to  induce 
her  to  help  the  poor  Sisters.  Some  one  has  said  that  a  great  barn 
must  be  opened  in  Bermondsey,  to  admit  all  who  are  talking  of 
going  there.  Perhaps  their  pious  intentions  will  evaporate  in  talk, 
for  want  of  that  heavenly  reserve  we  were  speaking  of.  Now, 
like  a  dear  good  child,  pray  for  me,  and  believe  me  most  affection- 
ately yours  in  Jesus  Christ."    .    ; 

In  young,  lively  persons,  who  enjoy  rude  health,  and  are  still  un- 
tried,, nature  may  have  as  much  to  do  with  spiritual  sweetness  as 
grace  has.  Evidently,  the  wise  Foundress  would  prefer  a  little 
"  reserve"  to  all  the  splendid  resolutions  of  her  youthful  corre- 
spoudent — she  feared  the  perfume  might  exhale  if  the  vase  were 
too  freely  uncovered.  She  loved  flowers,  but  she  liked  fruits  bet- 
tor. Of  her  own  resolutions  hardly  one  has  reached  us,  but  her 
acts  are,  at  this  moment,  animating  thousands  of  her  chUdren. 

When  first  "the  improvements"  to  be  introduced  into  the  Lon- 
don House  were  discussed,  it  got  out,  in  some  way  or  other,  that 
the  late  Superioress  was  opposed  to  them.  A  distinguished  lawyer, 
a  friend  of  the  convent,  consoled  her  successor  by  expressing  a 
hope,  that  '*  the  house  would  do  better  now  since  '  Paddy'  had  left." 

In  many  instances  there  exists  between  the  English  and  Irish  an 
antipathy  which  persons  of  ordinary  virtue  cannot  easily  overcome, 
and  which,  after  it  seems  to  be  eradicated,  starts  into  being  again, 
An  inordinate  love  of  country  may  make  narrow-minded  people 
imagine  they  cannot  prove  their  loyalty  without  insulting  or 
wounding  tha  natives  of  other  places  ;  just  as  some  persons  fancy 
they  cannot  show  their  independence  without  showing  their  vul- 
garity.   Not  a  shade  of  this  ignoble  feeling  existed  in  the  heroic- 


416 


LITE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


ally  charitable  Foandress.  She  loved  her  country  as  St.  Francis 
of  Sales  loved  the  mgged  soil  of  his  native  Savoy,  aud  like  the 
same  saint,  she  was  ready  "  to  fly  to  England,"  or  anywhere  else, 
to  promote  God's  glory  and  the  salvation  of  souls.  One  quality 
she  possessed  in  common  with  St.  Ignatius,  that  every  Sister  of  the 
Order  beliered  herself  to  be  a  particular  favorite  of  hers ;  bat 
certainly,  if  she  showed  any  partiality,  it  was  for  the  strangers,  not 
for  her  own  coantrywomen.  She  praises  her  Scotch  and  English 
Sisters  much  more  frequently  than  her  Irish  Sisters — the  former 
had  left  happy  homes  and  their  native  land,  the  latter  had  only 
stepped  from  the  paternal  roof.  The  former  were,  in  several  in- 
stances, converts,  who,  by  embracing  the  faith  and  the  Religious 
life,  had  broken  the  ties  that  bound  them  to  all  they  loved,  and 
really  taken  up  the  cross  ;  and  hc'  immensely  she  appreciated  such 
a  sacrifice,  her  description  of  Sister  M.  Gertrude  Jones,  whom  she 
views  as  a  martyr  for  the  faith,  beautifully  shows. 

To  hear  nationalities  discussed  in  a  manner  capable  of  wounding 
the  most  sensitive,  would  be  exceedingly  painful  to  her.  And  be- 
cause England  was  regarded  as  the  hereditary  foe  of  Ireland,  she 
did  not  allow  politics  to  be  mentioned  at  recreation,  lest  any  thing 
shonld  escape  an  impulsive  Hibernian,*  tending,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  to  wound  those  who  had  crossed  the  sea,  and  left  every 
thing  they  loved,  to  learn  the  maxims  of  perfection  in  a  country 

*  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  greater  part  of  Mother  MoAuley'a  life  be- 
longed to  the  moRt  exciting  period  of  Irish  history — the  leadership  of  O'Con- 
nell.  Beligion  and  politics  were  mingled,  aud  the  fathers  and  brothers  of  many 
of  the  Sisters  were  enthusiastic  supporters  of  the  "  great  champion  of  Catho- 
lic freedom."  Her  dearest  fViends,  as  Archbishop  Murray,  Dr.  Doyle,  Dr. 
Blake,  etc.,  were  among  the  public  men  of  the  day.  The  talented  daughters 
of  the  Liberator  daily  ossisted  in  her  poor  schools ;  yet  with  all  this,  a  word 
that  could  pain  a  foreigner  was  never  uttered  in  her  community.  Like  hor 
ftioud,  the  Apostle  of  Temperance,  while  she  sought  to  do  good  to  every  party, 
her  sympathies  wore  chiefly  with  the  vanquished  aud  unfortunate;  and  when 
there  was  misery  to  be  relieved,  or  sorrow  to  be  assuaged,  repealers  and 
orangv..nen,  Catholics  and  non-Catholics,  natives  and  foreigners,  were  all  the 
same  to  her.  Or,  rather,  the  foreigners,  of  whom  she  know  comparatively  few, 
were  the  moKt  tenderly  cherished.  She  even  required  the  Sisters  who  spoke 
foreign  languages,  to  continue  to  study  them  occasionally,  that  they  might  be 
able  to  afford  the  foreigners  they  constantly  encountered  iu  the  hospital*  and 
prinons,  the  comfort  of  instraction  in  their  native  tongue. 


r. 


LIFE  OF  CATHKRINE  IfOAULEY. 


417 


ry  as  St.  Francis 
Toy,  aad  like  the 
)r  anywhere  else, 
ulfl.     One  quality 
jvery  Sister  of  the 
rite  of  hers  ;  bnt 
the  strangers,  not 
!Otch  and  English 
sters— the  former 
e  latter  had  only 
yere,  in  seTcral  in- 
and  the  Religions 
,11  they  loved,  and 
le  appreciated  such 
e  Jones,  whom  she 
s. 

ipable  of  wounding 
i  to  her.  And  be- 
foe  of  Ireland,  she 
;ion,  lest  any  thing 
Dg,  in  the  slightest 
sea,  and  left  every 
ction  in  a  country 

her  MoAuley'8  life  be- 
10  leadership  of  O'Con- 
■8  and  brothers  of  many 
BBt  champion  of  Cutho- 
urray,  Dr.  Doyle,  Dr. 
The  talented  daughters 

with  nil  this,  a  word 
community.  Like  hor 
do  good  to  every  party, 
unfortunate ;  and  when 
3«uagod,  repealers  and 
foreigners,  were  «ll  the 
;now  comparatively  few, 

the  Sisters  who  spoke 
illy,  that  they  might  be 
)d  in  the  hospitaliuxd 
ue. 


which,  in  the  days  of  its  prosperity,  had  opened  its  glorious  mon- 
asteries to  Frank  a'jd  Norman,  Dane  and  Saxon,  and  had  ever  re- 
ceived the  stranger  with  the  national  cead  mille  a  faltha.  That 
this  ancient  spirit  still  lived,  in  the  Foundress  at  least,  the  follow- 
ing pleasant  passage,  in  a  letter  to  the  Superioress  of  Gal  way  Con- 
vent, will  show : 

"  All  our  English  Sisters  have  signs  of  solid,  genuine  piety,  and 
strong  vocation  to  their  state.  They  are,  indeed,  all  that  we  could 
wish.  Our  veneitited  Archbishop  has  promised  to  receive  them, 
but  cannot  yet  appoint  the  day.  The  Irish  Sisters  are  going  to 
treat  them  to  a  great  christening  cake,  to  impress  them  with  a  due 
sense  of  Irish  hospitality;  and  even  now,  when  some  fruit  is  being 
distributed  at  recreation,  the  English  Sisters  always  get  the  best 
of  it.  I  am  instructing  them  for  nearly  two  hours  a  day  for  the  cer- 
emony. Thank  God,  they  love  instruction,  and  seem  most  desirous 
to  profit  by  it.  Their  new  convent  is  a  beautiful  Pngin  structure. 
It  could  not  be  too  nice  for  those  whom  God  has  destined  to  be 
its  first  occupants." 

!No  one  would  think,  from  the  following  letter,  that  Mother 
McAuley  had  just  had  an  unfavorable  account  of  the  house  she 
addressed  it  to;  the  Superioress,  however,  must  have  understood 
the  hint  conveyed  in  the  second  sentence,  about  "  the  active  prac- 
tice of  our  duties."    It  is  written  to  Sister  M.  De  Sales  White  : 

"  We  shall  leave  this  house  so  badly  provided,  when  going  to 
Birmingham,  that  we  thought  it  would  be  necessary  to  get  you 
and  dear  Sister  M.  Xavier  home  before  we  left ;  bnt  I  am  now  sat- 
isfied to  wait  till  my  return,  though  indeed  I  see  the  necessity  as 
clearly  as  those  who  do  not  deem  it  prudent  to  wait  so  long.  But 
we  will  get  you  both  so  much  improved  by  the  good  example  you 
have  had,  and  the  active  practice  of  our  duties,  that  yon  will  soon 
help  us  to  get  all  in  order,  that  is,  to  teach  the  new  children." 

Nor  is  there  a  shade  of  anxiety  expressed  in  this  quiet,  humor- 
ous passage,  written  about  the  same  time  to  a  Sister  in  Limerick  : 

"  We  shall  soon  have  a  very  thin  house,  if  God  is  not  pleased  to 
send  us  a  new  batch.  If  four  go  to  Newfoundland,  and  nine  to 
Birniingham,  thirteen  vacant  cells  will  be  a  curiosity  here.  This 
will  lie  a  great  relief  to  my  poor  little  houscrsteward,  Sister  M. 

18 


■i 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINB  MCAULET. 


Teresa  (the  Less),  who  has  been  often  perplexed  to  make  oat  a 
bed,  so  much  so,  tliat  I  nsed  to  try  to  avoid  her  when  an  addition 
was  on  the  way.    We  were  sure  to  hear  something  like  the  follow- 
ing dialogue  :  .!;'"i:  srj  a{  ^J.^ui  „.'/„;:.  y  .t.r':!a; 
'  Reverend  Mother,  I  hear  there's  another  Sister  coming  T 

"  '  Yes ;  have  you  any  objection  V 

"•Where  is  she  to  sleep?'  -  >   ,,  .^':i,':.'^    j 

'In  my  lap.'  ^^ 'ti;:^ 

" '  Oh,  I  declare.  Reverend  Mother,  it  is  impossible  to  make 
any  more  room — the  Sisters  are  dreadfully  crowded.  Come,  look 
into  the  dormitory,'  etc. 

"  Read  this  for  her,  and  she  will  rejoice  at  the  prospect  of  thir- 
teen spare  beds.  She  must  come  home  soon;  we  cannot  afford  to 
have  our  poor  reduced  forces  scattered." 

St.  Mary's  was  never  without  a  cell  for  a  new  Sister.  In  con- 
junctures like  the  above,  Mother  McAuley  quietly  led  the  stranger 
to  her  own,  and  took  her  rest  in  an  old  arm-chair,  if,  indeed,  she 
rested  at  all. 

The  following  extract,  however,  is  not  very  complimentary  to 
the  "  improvements"  attempted  in  London  : 

"  I  hope  my  dear  Sisters  M.  Xavier  and  De  Sales  will  come 
home  in  their  own  native  style,  and  that  the  Irish  malediction, 
'  Bad  manners  to  you,'  will  not  have  fallen  on  them.  As  my  last 
poetic  effusion  has  been  on  this  subject,  I  send  a  copy  of  it  to  dear 
Sister  M.  Catherine,  as  a  tribute  of  affectionate  remembrance,  not 
at  all  insinuating  that  the  curse  has  fallen  on  her." 

Mother  McAuley's  life-long  intercourse  with  the  poor  made  her 
familiar  with  all  their  very  energetic  modes  of  expressing  joy  and 
sorrow,  anger  and  affection.  She  was  acquainted  with  every  per- 
sonification of  poverty,  from  the  venerable  vendor  of  apples  and 
nuts,  who  sat  at  her  "  standing"  conning  her  beads  when  not  sell- 
ing her  merchandise,  to  the  poor  little  boy  who  slept  anywhere, 
and  dined  on  a  "  crust  of  bread  and  the  smell  of  Gresham's  Ho- 
tel." She  sometunes  repeated  at  recreation  their  witty  sayings, 
but  their  ordinary  mode  of  expressing  dissatisfaction,  "  Bad  man- 
ners to  you,"  greatly  struck  her.  She  wrote  a  few  verses  on  it  for 
the  amusement  of  the  Sisters,  playfully  deprecating  the  malodic- 


BY. 

ed  to  make  out  a 
p  when  an  addition 
ling  like  the  foUow- 

jister  coming  ?' 


impossible  to  make 
)wded.    Come,  look 

the  prospect  of  thir- 
we  cannot  afford  to 

lew  Sister.  In  con- 
etly  led  the  stranger 
■chair,  if,  indeed,  she 

sry  complimentary  to 

De  Sales  will  come 
he  Irish  malediction, 
n  them.  As  my  last 
d  a  copy  of  it  to  dear 
ate  remembrance,  not 
her." 

th  the  poor  made  het 
of  expressing  joy  and 
Eunted  with  every  per- 
vendor  of  apples  and 
•  beads  when  not  sell- 
'  who  slept  anywhere, 
nell  of  Gresham's  Ho- 
n  their  witty  sayings, 
tisfaction,  "Bad  man- 
e  a  few  verses  on  it  for 
precating  the  maledio-j 


LITE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


419 


tiOD,  and  regretting  that  it  fell  on  so  many.  She  thpnght  tho 
world  would  be  a  happy  place,  if  people's  manners  were  as  good  as 
their  hearts ;  since  much  of  its  nnhappiness  comes  frrm  "  bad 
manners."  Good  manners,  she  said,  should  always  accompany 
good  works,  of  which  they  are  the  most  graceful  ornament ;  and  if 
the  ugly  malediction,  "  Bad  manners  to  you,"  should  fall  on  her 
children,  she  believed  their  usefulness  would  be  greatly  diminished, 
if  not  utterly  destroyed. 

One  virtue  which  she  considered  peculiarly  necessary  for  a  Reli- 
gious was  forbearance.  Forbearance  when  under  any  little  excite- 
ment, forbearance  in  School,  forbearance  in  the  House  of  Mercy, 
forbearance  everywhere.  "  We  mast  not  make  too  many  laws," 
she  would  say  ;  "  if  we  draw  the  strings  too  tight  they  will  break." 
She  desired  for  her  Sisters  a  share  in  that  adorable  dissimulation 
that  "  winketh  at  the  sins  of  men  to  draw  them  to  repentance,'' 
Hence  she  wished  them  to  be  ever  ready  to  praise,  to  encourage,  to 
stimulate,  but  slow  to  censure,  and  still  more  slow  to  condemn. 
The  surgeon  does  not  apply  the  knife  and  caustic  until  gentler 
means  have  failed,  and  even  when  circumstances  justify  the  severest 
applications,  we  all  know  that  the  remedy  may  often  prove  worse 
than  the  disease.  There  are  disorders,  too,  that  of  their  nature 
are  incurable.  No  physician  will  attempt  to  remove  the  unsightly 
excrescence  of  a  hunchback.  Yet  if  diseases  of  the  body  were 
treated  with  as  little  consideration  as  are  those  of  the  mind,  what 
would  be  the  physical  condition  of  the  human  race  1 

But,  with  reference  to  the  London  difficulties.  Reverend  Mother 
surpassed  herself  in  forbearance.  As  Foundress  of  an  Order  which 
had  just  received  the  highest  possible  sanction,  every  attempt  at  in- 
novation must  have  been  hateful  to  her.  Yet  her  whole  conduct  is 
conciliatory  in  the  highest  degree  ;  she  never  insists  on  the  author- 
ity her  office  necessarily  gave  her — she  refrains  from  uttering  a 
command — she  explains,  suggests,  entreats.  The  lady  "  inspired" 
to  improve  on  what  the  Sacred  College  had  just  confirmed,  de- 
signing to  begin  with  the  exterior,  asked  her  whether  the  visitation 
dress  could  not  be  changed.  Hoods  were  to  be  substituted  for 
bonnets,  and  something  else  for  cloaks.  Mother  McAulcy  replied 
that  she  would  consider  it,  and  when  next  Bishop  Griffifths  called, 
she  inquired  whether  the  state  of  things  in  London  required  any 


I 


mSmmmmimm 


420 


LIFE  OF  CATHERmE  MOAULET. 


alteration  in  non-essentials,  for  in  essentials  none  conld  be  made 
withoat  changbg  the  Order  into  something  else,  very  good,  perhaps, 
but  yet  not  the  Order  of  Mercy.  His  lordship  replied  very  em- 
phatically :  "  I  do  not  wish  any  changes."  But  innovations  were 
attempted  in  more  important  matters,  and  the  lady  "  inspired"  to 
make  them,  whatever  her  othe>  qualifications  were,  does  not  seem, 
on  this  occasion,  to  have  evinced  over  much  respect  for  the  Foun- 
dress, who  writes  :  "  We  can  clearly  discern  a  desire  that  John 
Bull  should  be  head  on  all  occasions."  She  had  just  heard  the  Irish 
element  designated  as  we  have  described  by  the  courteous,  hospit- 
able counsellor  above  quoted,  and  she  adopts  his  elegant  phrase- 
ology in  the  confidential  letter  in  which  this  passage  occurs. 

Bermondseyliad  every  earthly  prospect  of  success.  The  house 
was  rich,  its  members  persons  of  talent,  rank,  and  influence,  its  Su- 
perioress well  known  in  the  literary  world,  and  its  Pastor  the  ever- 
devoted  Dr.  Butler.  Still,  rumors  reached  St.  Mary's,  and  bishops 
and  priests  began  to  suspect  that  however  excellent  its  members 
were,  some  of  them  were  no  longer  Sisters  of  Mercy.  An  Eng- 
lish priest  having  written  to  Mother  McAuley  that  the  Religious 
were  following  their  respective  attraits,  not  the  Rule,  she  imme- 
diately begged  Dr.  Butler,  who  was  Ecclesiastical  Superior  and 
Confessor,  to  let  her  know  exactly  how  matters  stood.  The  Doc- 
tor, who  then  thought  that  with  such  a  staff  it  was  impossible  for 
a  convent  to  get  ever  sc  little  on  the  left  side  of  perfection,  in- 
formed her  by  next  post  that  he  knew  not  what  enemy  of  the  Order 
in  general,  and  the  London  house  in  particular,  had  been  dissemin- 
ating such  mjurious  and  false  reports.  Proceeding  to  describe  the 
flourishing  condition  of  the  house  in  spirituals  and  temporals,  he 
states  that  the  two  senior  novices  had  just  passed  their  examination 
for  profession  in  the  most  creditable  manner,  as  Bishop  Qriffifbhs 
could  testify.  "  Hitherto,"  continued  the  aggrieved  Doctor,  "  we 
have  been  obliged  to  depend  on  borrowed  plumes  for  our  ornaments, 
but  these  being  bo  difficult  to  procure,  I  am  happy  to  say  that  now 
we  can  dispense  with  them."  He  concludes  by  entreating  the 
Foundress  to  ease  her  mind  on  this  matter,  since  nothing  could  be 
more  satisfactory  than  the  manner  in  which  the  House  was  con- 
ducted. He  forgot  to  say  why  "  two  Sisters  left  under  such  angry 
circumfitances  that  they  became  enemies  to  the  House,"  although 


1 


LIFE  OP  OATHKBINE  MOAULET. 


421 


I  conid  be  made 
ry  good,  perbaps, 
replied  very  em- 
innovations  were 
dy  "  inspired"  to 
e,  does  not  seem, 
ct  for  the  Foun- 
desire  that  John 
st  heard  the  Irish 
conrteons,  hospit- 
i  elegant  phrase- 
ige  occnrs. 
cess.    The  house 
i  influence,  its  Sn- 
}  Pastor  ttie  ever- 
[ary's,  and  bishops 
llent  its  members 
tfercy.     An  Eng- 
lat  the  Religious 
I  Rule,  she  imme- 
ical  Superior  and 
stood.    The  Doc- 
ras  impossible  for 
i  of  perfection,  in- 
nemy  of  the  Order 
lad  been  dissemin- 
ng  to  describe  the 
and  temporals,  he 
I  their  examination 
}  Bishop  Qriffifths 
leved  Doctor,  "  we 

for  our  ornaments, 
py  to  say  that  now 
by  entreating  the 

nothing  could  be 
le  House  was  con- 
t  under  such  angry 
)  House,"  although 


she  had  specially  inquired  ;  and  she  knew  that  though  it  is  8ome< 
times  necessary  to  send  novices  away,  it  is  never  necessary  to  treat 
them  in  a  manner  calculated  to  make  them  "  enemies."  She  did 
not,  therefore,  set  her  mind  at  rest  ;  Bermondsey  continued  a  thorn 
iu  her  side  till  the  day  of  her  death.  Dr.  Butler  was  soon  obliged 
to  come  to  Ireland  "  to  borrow  plumes,"  or  rather  to  ask  them  as 
a  gift.  The  original  Superioress  returned  with  him,  and  things  be- 
■  came  as  the  Foundress  had  established  them  before  twenty  hours 
elapsed.  The  somewhat  ancient  projector  of  the  innovations  at 
once  seceded.*  She  retired  to  Rome,  where,  protected  by  Cardi- 
nals Acton  and  Fransone,  as  she  herself  informs  us,  she  wrote  a 
Rule  for  a  community  destined  to  include  '*  Solitaries"  for  contem- 
plation, and  "  Handmaids"  for  action.  These  she  afterwards  es- 
tablished near  St.  George's  Church,  Sonthwark,  London,  where,  as 
she  herself  was  Foundress,  she  had  ample  scope  for  her  zeal,  and 
no  "  tepid  Religious''  to  restrain  her.  Yet,  notwithst^ding  these 
and  other  advantages,  "  the  Consecrated  Abbess,"  "  the  Mother 
Almoner,"  and  the  rest  of  the  "  Solitaries"  and  "  Handmaids,"  dis- 
persed. Their  projector  resumed  her  literary  labors,  but  her  next 
work  shows  little  of  "  the  Recluse,"  and  less  of  the  saint.t 

It  is  a  high  eulogium  on  the  Foundress,  that  when  this  lady  left 
the  Order'she  carried  with  her  the  highest  veneration  for  her  for- 
mer Superioress,  whom  she  always  styles  "  the  sainted  Catherine 
McAuley,"  and  of  whose  immediate  admission  into  glory  she  says 
she  had  a  vision.  Such  testimony  from  an  opponent,  who,  what- 
ever were  her  errors  of  the  head,  was  appreciated  in  the  Order  and 
out  of  It  for  her  high  moral  worth  and  splendid  literary  ability, 
may  have  its  value;  but  of  all  who  knew  Catherine  McAuley, 
there  was  not  one  who  did  not  feel  certain  of  her  admission  to 
glory,  or  that  required  a  vision  to  confirm  this  belief. 

Poor  S.  M.  C !  did  she  go  out  from  us  because  she  was  not 

of  us,  or  did  God  inspire  her  to  take  that  step  ? 

*  This  unhappy  finale  the  Foundress  did  not  live  to  see. 

t  This  lady  wrote  an  acoounh  of  her  stay  in  Rome,  her  projected  Order,  Ao., 
which  she  dedicated  to  the  Prii  seas  Doria.  When  saints  wrote  their  visions,  it 
was  generally  by  the  command  of  their  spiritual  directors,  but  thia  lady  pub- 
lished hers  in  a  Catholic  novel  I  What  would  Mother  UoAuley  think  of  tueb 
''  reserve  I" 


- 


CHAPTER    XL. 

The  FuandresR  writes  to  the  Bishop  of  Galway.— Her  retarn  to  Ireland. — ^Let- 
ters to  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Burke,  of  Westport ;  to  Sister  M.  Joseph  Joyce ;  to 
Mother  Teresa 'White. — Her  continued  interest  in  her  Houses. — Her  zeal.— 
Old  opinions  about  the  New  World. 

DURING  her  stay  in  BirmiDghsm,  Mother  McAnloy's  congh 
became  so  mnch  worse,  that  every  one  saw  she  was  not  long 
for  this  world.  The  Bishop  of  Qalway  having  written  to  invite 
her  to  assist  at  the  profession  of  the  Sisters  who  had  been  received 
with  such  Sclat,  she  immediately  forwarded  the  following  reply : 

"  St.  Mabib's,  BiBHiNaHAV,  SepttmUr  SO,  1841. 
"  Mt  Lord  and  dear  Father  in  God  : 

"  I  have  just  had  the  honor  to  receive  your  esteemed  favor,  and 
deeply  regret  that  I  am  not  to  have  the  happiness  of  meeting  my 
beloved  Sisters  on  the  joyful  occasion  of  their  holy  profession. 
Even  in  this  warm  weather,  my  lord,  if  I  remain  in  a  room  with  a 
window  open,  I  cough  all  night,  and  so  disturb  the  poor  Sisters 
who  are  near  me.  When  I  return  to  Baggot-stroet,  I  expect  to 
be  confined  to  a  close  room,  as  the  least  blast  makes  me  very 
tronblesome  for  several  days  together.  The  good  Bishop  here 
celebrated  Mass  for  us  yesterday.  To'day,  Dr.  Wiseman  continues 
his  course  of  lectures  in  the  grand  cathedral.  He  commenced  with 
the  novel  opinions  of  the  sixteenth  century,  placing  before  the  con- 
gregation the  arguments  of  both  sides.  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Walsh 
said  there  were  at  least  twelve  hundred  persons  present  at  the  pre- 
paratory discourse,  some  hundreds  of  whom  were  Protestants.  It 
is  thought  these  discourses  will  produce  many  converts. 

"  My  Lord,  I  should  apologize  for  encroaching  on  yoor  valuable 


N 


LIFE  OF  CATBEBINE  HOAULET. 


428 


"  /-• 


etnrn  to  Ireland.— Let- 
r  M.  Joseph  Joyce;  to 
sr  Uoaaes.— Her  ie»l.— 


r  McAuley's  congh 
aw  she  was  not  long 
ng  written  to  invite 
10  had  been  received 
I  following  reply : 

.H,  Stptemitr  20, 1841. 

'  esteemed  favor,  and 
)ines8  of  meeting  my 
lieir  holy  profession, 
ain  in  a  room  with  a 
urb  the  poor  Sisters 
tfltreet,  I  expect  to 
)laBt  makes  me  very 
e  good  Bishop  here 
r.  Wiseman  continues 
He  commenced  with 
lacing  before  the  con- 
ight  Eev.  Dr.  Walsli 
ns  present  at  the  pre- 
were  Protestants.  It 
'  converts, 
bing  on  your  valuable 


time,  begging  to  thank  yonr  lordship  for  all  yoar  kindness  to  me 
and  the  Sisters,  and  entreating  yoar  charitable  remembrance. 
*      "  Your  grateful  child  and  servant  in  Christ, 

"Mart  Catherine  McAulet." 

Mother  McAuIey  left  Birmingham,  September  23d,  accompanied 

by  Sister  Fanny  O ,  now  Sister  M.  Liguori.    They  made  sqme 

hours'  stay  in  Liverpool,  where  the  latter  met  her  mother.  Very 
Rev.  Dr.  Yonens  received  them  most  hospitably,  and,  renewing 
the  subject  of  the  Liverpool  Foundation,  conducted  them  to  a 
large,  gloomy-looking  house  on  Mount  Yernon,  which  he  was 
fitting  up  for  a  temporary  convent.  The  day  was  wet  and  cold 
— one  of  those  bleak  days  that,  in  England,  often  fall  towards  the 
end  of  September.  Reverend  Mother's  clothing  was  scant,  and 
her  shoes,  though  decent  in  appearance,  old  and  worn — damp  feet 
did  not  improve  her  health,  and  the  tossing  on  the  stormy  channel, 
daring  a  very  anpropitious  voyage,  seemed  completely  to  over- 
whelm her.  It  was  her  favorite  Feast  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  the 
last  she  spent  on  earth.  On  the  morning  of  the  next  day,  she 
reached  Kingstown,  and  the  Sisters  were  shocked  at  the  change  a 
few  weeks  had  wrought  in  her  appearance.  On  the  same  day,  she 
wrote  the  following  letter  from  St.  Mary's,  in  which,  as  usual,  she 
expresses  more  concern  for  the  afflictions  of  othTs  than  her  own: 

",S^pfcfni«'25, 1841. 

*'  My  dkab  Sister  M.  Frances  : 

"  We  had  a  weary  passage :  kept  three  hours  waiting  for  the 
tide,  and  did  not  arrive  at  Kingstown  till  nine  a.  u.  The  poor 
Sisters  had  comfortable  tea  for  us,  and  we  rested  there  till 
twelve.  I  had  with  me  the  young  Novice,  Sister  Fanny,  who  has 
had  great  family  afflictions.  Her  poor  papa  now  in  London,  after 
a  severe  operation ;  her  mamma's  letters  such  as  it  is  wonderful 
she  can  bear.  Never  did  I  see  a  vocation  so  well  proved.  Very 
Rev.  Dr.  Youens,  an  intimate  friend  of  hers,  had  her  mamma  to 
meet  us  at  his  house.  We  dined  with  him  ;  and,  as  the  packet 
did  not  sail  till  eight,  he  brought  us  to  the  place  he  "•♦^^ends  for  the 
convent.  It  is  very  well  suited,  quite  close  to  the  town,  with  three 
good  approaches  to  it.     He  says  the  present  House  shall  remain 


424 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


for  a  Uonse  of  Mercy.  We  changed  our  visitation  dress  for  onr 
Hoose  dress  before  dinner,  and  some  of  his  priests  have  now  seen 
our  full  costume,  which  they  like  very  mnch.  He  seems  quite 
ardent  about  the  Foundation,  and  sent  a  lady  here  in  my  absence, 
a  Miss  Coucitt,  very  nice  person  indeed." 

That  hor  interest  in  her  convents  continued  to  the  last  is  proved 
by  such  sentences  as  these,  scattered  through  her  letters  :  "  Their 
progress  in  Galway  exceeds  all  expectation."  "  1  hope  they  wUl 
go  on  iu  Bermondsey  with  great  ardor  now."  "  In  Cork  they  ad- 
vance piano,  piano."  "  I  think  Birmingham  will  be  a  flourish- 
ing House."  "  I  am  delighted  to  learn  of  the  prosperity  of 
Wexford."  "  I  am  happy  to  learn  that  poor,  sickly  Naas  is  re- 
covering so  fast."  "  The  Sisters  in  Birr  have  four  hundred  and 
fifty  children  in  their  schools.  Poor  Father  Crotty  is  greatly 
afflicted.  He  calls  the  Sisters  poor  deluded  dupes."  Notwith- 
standing all  that  pressed  on  her,  she  still  sympathizes  with  her 
children  in  their  little  troubles.  "It  distressed  me  much,"  she 
wrote  to  one  of  them,  "to  hear  that  your  good  director  was 
changed.  I  know  it  is  an  r  'on  for  you ;  but  rest  assured  God 
will  send  you  some,  disting  consolation.    This  is  your  life — 

joys  and  sorrows  mingled — one  succeeding  the  other.  Let  as  not 
think  of  the  means  God  has  employed  to  send  us  some  portions  of 
His  holy  Gross,  being  ever  mindful  that  it  comes  from  Himself." 
Grateful  for  every  kindness  shown  a  delicate  Sister,  she  says : 
"  How  shall  I  express  the  affectionate  gratitude  I  feel  for  your 
kindness  to  my  poor  novice,  Sister  M.  Justina,  who  is,  indeed,  a 
good  Religious,  and  valuable  in  every  way.  I  believe  sending  her 
to  the  world  would  be  followed  by  her  death.  Dr.  Corrigan  is 
attending  her,  at  her  father's  request.  Dr.  Stokes,  who  is  now 
considered  the  best  opinion  in  lung  cases,  desires  she  should  drive 
out  every  fine  day.  He  says  she  is  better,  but  fears  consumptioD 
is  lingering  about  her." 

Towards  the  end  of  Mother  McAuley's  life  her  zeal  redoubled, 
and  she  would  gladly  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  "  to  plant  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  hearts  of  the  poor."  She  offered  to  go  to  Nova 
Scotia  with  )ut  foundation  fund  or  settlement,  to  assist  poor  e  u  - 
grants  and  their  children,   of  whose  sufferings  she  had  heard. 


r. 

;ion  dress  for  onr 

its  have  now  seen 

He  seema  quite 

re  in  my  absence, 

the  last  is  proved 
r  letters  :  "  Their 
'  1  hope  they  will 
'  In  Cork  they  ad- 
will  be  a  flourish- 
the  prosperity  of 
sickly  Naas  is  re- 
four  hundred  and 
Crotty  is  greatly 
iupes."     Notwith- 
mpathizes  with  her 
ed  me  much,"  she 
good  director  was 
it  rest  assured  God 
This  is  your  life — 
other.    Let  as  not 
08  some  portions  of 
nes  from  Himself." 
Sister,  she  says: 
ude  I  feel  for  your 
who  is,  indeed,  a 
believe  sending  her 
Dr.  Corrigan  is 
Stokes,  who  is  now 
ires  she  should  drive 
t  fears  consumption 

ler  zeal  redoubled, 
th,  "  to  plant  Jesuj 

red  to  go  to  Nova 
to  assist  poor  e  a  - 

ga  she  had  heard. 


I. 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  XCAULET. 


4S6 


When  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Fleming,  of  Newfoundland,  applied  for  a 
colony,  she  desired  to  accompany  her  Sisters  to  the  New  World. 
At  that  time  this  was  something  of  a  sacrifice.  The  most  exag 
gcratcd  accounts  of  the  climate  and  inhabitants  of  America  were 
prevalent  among  the  better  class  of  Irish,  some  thirty  years  ago. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  terra  incognita  to  most  of  them.  Persons  of 
good  abilities  and  information  in  other  respects,  who  could  accu- 
rately describe  the  Steppes  of  Russia,  the  Pontine  marshes,  the 
beauties  of  ancient  Greece,  the  orange  groves  of  Spain,  the  climate 
of  Saxe  Weimar  or  Andorra,  spoke  of  America  as  an  immense 
continent,  every  inch  of  which  was  subject  to  irregular  vicissitudes 
of  tropical  heat  and  polar  snow — a  vast  prairie,  in  which  Indians 
and  buffaloes  wrestled  for  dominion.  Many  who  crossed  the  At- 
lantic expected  to  find  wigwams  in  New  York  and  Baltimore,  and 
see  Cherokees,  Crows  and  Blackfeet  smoking  the  calumet  in 
Broadway.  "To  converse  with  an  American,"  says  a  noble  au- 
thor of  the  present  century,  "  is  like  speaking  with  posterity  from 
the  other  side  of  the  Styx."  But  no  dangers,  real  or  imaginary, 
could  deter  Catherine  McAuity  when  the  salvation  of  souls  was  in 
question ;  and  could  the  Archbishop's  consent  be  obtain';d,  she 
had  been  the  first  of  her  Order  to  touch  American  soil. 

In  the  beginning  of  October  her  health  seemed  greatly  improved. 
Father  O'Hanlon  expressed  astonishment  at  this.  "  O,  my  dear  1" 
he  exclaimed,  "  yon  are  looking  qnite  yonrself  again,  thank  God." 
It  was  a  change  before  death  ;  yet  the  too  bright  light  of  her  soft, 
blue  eye,  and  the  hectic  of  her  sunken  cheek,  could  deceive  only  a 
sup  irficial  observer.  On  the  seventh  she  was  so  exhausted  that 
the  Sisters  prevailed  on  her  to  take  a  little  rest.  The  following 
note  she  wrote  to  Dr.  Burke,  of  Westport,  on  the  8th  : 

"  Many  thanks,  dear  Rev.  Father,  for  the  kind  concern  you  ex- 
press about  my  health.  I  am  really  quite  a  fine  lady,  doing  nothiog 
but  looking  on,  keeping  np  the  little  remnant  for  foundations,  and 
above  all,  for  Westport. 

"  Earnestly  begging  a  remembrance  in  your  prayers, 
"  I  remain,  dear,  respected,  Rev.  Father, 

"  Your  very  grateful  Sister  and  servant  in  Christ, 

"M.   C.  MCAULKT."    ,,, 


,    ■ 

9 


426 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBmE  HOAULXT. 


A  little  later  she  wrote  to  Sister  M.  Joseph  Joyce,'*'  the  first  Si» 
ter  of  Mercy  professed  in  Galway : 

•'  How  jcyfnlly,  how  sincerely  I  congratulate  you  on  the  com- 
pletion of  your  hopes  and  wishes.  What  a  sweet  and  blessed 
union  you  have  formed  !  Prove  your  gratitude  by  going  hand  in 
hand  witb  yonr  Divine  Redeemer ;  nothing  to  interest  yon  but 
what  relates  to  His  glory.  May  He  grant  yon  every  grace  and 
blessing,  and  make  yon  one  of  His  dearest  and  best  beloved." 

At  the  same  time  she  wrote  to  the  Superioress  : 
•.  "How  heartily  I  rejoice  that  all  difficulties  have  been  sur- 
mounted, and  that  our  dear,  dear  Sisters  have  been  professed. 
Thanks  be  to  God !  How  I  felt  for  them,  k'  )t  fasting  till  three 
o'clock.  But  the  holy  and  delightful  view  G  d  inspired  them  ♦,o 
take  of  their  mortified  Redeemer  at  that  hour,  was  well  calculated 
to  support  and  animate  them.  My  poor  Sister  M.  De  Sales  was 
disappointed  at  not  going  to  you,  but  she  is  my  constant,  aSac- 
tionate  nurse,  and  indeed  I  am  a  troublesome  child.  I  have  felt 
the  last  heavy  days  very  much — great  increase  of  the  cough — thank 
God — this  mild  day  has  revived  me.  Yonr  mamma  was  here  siace 
we  returned.  She  looks  as  well  as  ever  I  saw  her,  I  must  try  to 
write  a  few  lines  to  each  of  my  grandchildren.  May  God  bless 
and  protect  you  all." 

The  Sisters  professed  on  the  foundations  she  playfully  styled  her 
grandchildren,  and  she  showed  them,  equally  with  the  rest,  the 
nfiection  of  the  fonaest  mother.  The  racking  cough,  and  the 
twitches  of  inflammatory  rheumatism,  were  insufficient  to  lessen  the 
heavenly  sweetness  of  her  countenance  ;  but  she  was  no  longer 
able  to  make  much  physical  effort.  "  The  singin(,'  I  have  beside 
me,  and  all  the  noise  they  make  at  recreation,  do  not  disturb  me," 
she  wrote,  "  but  the  sound  of  a  carriage-wheel  rouses  mo  at  once." 
To  the  last,  she  strove  to  conceal  the  gravity  of  her  disease,  lest 
her  approaching  death  should  grieve  the  Sisters  ;  and  she  denied 


*  Sister  M.  J.  Joyce  was  one  of  "  the  first  seven"  professed  at  St.  Tercsa'a. 
Before  the  confirmation  of  tlie  Bulo,  "  the  flrsi.  sevun"  entering  eaoh  house  won 
professed  after  one  year's  novitiate;  but  since  the  confiriiition,  tlie  novitiati 
must  continue  "  two  entire  years"  before  profession,  and  two  years  after.  Tliia 
was  the  only  ohango  made  In  the  rules,  Ac,  at  Kome. 


[iET. 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBIKS  MOAULET. 


427 


Foyce,*  the  first  Si» 

ite  you  on  tbe  com* 
swoet  and  blosBcd 
ie  by  going  hand  in 
to  interest  you  but 
fovL  erery  grace  and 
[  best  beloved." 
'ess : 

ties  have  been  snr- 
lave  been  professed. 
n  pt  fasting  till  three 
lod  inspired  them  *.o 
r,  was  well  calculated 
Bter  M.  De  Sales  was 
is  my  constant,  affoc- 
le  child.    I  have  felt 
B  of  the  cough— thank 
namma  was  here  since 
ff  her.    I  must  try  to 
ren.    May  God  bless 

he  playfully  styled  her 
ly  with  the  rest,  the 
jking  cough,  and  the 
isufficient  to  lessen  the 
it  she  was  no  longer 
singinti  have  beside 
a,  do  not  disturb  me," 
el  rouses  me  at  once." 
ity  of  her  disease,  lest 
jters  ;  and  she  denied 


"  professed  Bt  St.  Tercsa'i. 

"  entering  each  house  wort 

eonfln  ntion,  the  novitiati 

snd  two  yeara  after.   Th" 


le. 


to  herself  in  her  last  days  the  care  she  had  lavished  on  hundreds. 
Speaking  of  a  Sister  who  was  dying  at  TuUamore,  she  thus  uncon- 
faciously  describes  herself:  "Blessed  is  that  sweet  and  spotless 
soul,  getting  rapidly  out  of  this  miserable  world."  No  wonder  that 
her  own  jcy  was  great  when  she  was  "  getting  out  of  this  misera- 
ble world;"  she  had  led  "  that  blessed  and  happy  life  which  makes 
death  so  sweet."  The  following  letter  is,  so  far  as  we  know,  the 
last  she  ever  wTOte.    It  is  dated  October  12,  1841  : 

"My  Dear  Sistkr  M.  'Frances:  ' 

"  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Kirby,  Vice-President  of  the  Irish  College  at 
Rome,  having  called  here  the  day  before  he  sailed,  I  mentioned  to 
him  some  evident  mistakes  in  the  copy  of  our  Holy  Rule  :  he 
told  me  to  select  them,  and  forward  the  document  to  him,  with 
Archbishop  Murray's  signature,  and  said  we  should,  without  any 
more  trouble,  obtain  permission  to  rectify  them.  I  almost  forgot 
to  add,  what  will  occur  to  yourself,  not  to  speak  of  any  mistakes 
in  the  Rule. 

"  I  have  jui  t  received  your  welcome  letter.  How  grateful  I 
ought  to  be  for  all  your  anxiety.  We  shall  meet  again,  please 
God,  but  not  at  present.  I  was  sorry  to  hear  poor  Dr.  Fitzgerald 
is  suffering  so  much.  Tell  him  I  pray  with  all  the  fervor  I  can  for 
his  comfort,  etc.  Ever  your  affectionate,  '  ,; 

'        ,    ,  "Mary  C.  McAolkt." 

The  Rules  and  Constitutions  were  originally  written  in  Ilnglish. 
They  were  translated  into  Italian  for  the  greater  convenience  of 
the  Sacred  Congregation  I  y  whom  they  were  examined.  Very 
Rev.  Mr.  Colgan,  of  the  Carmelite  Order,  certified  the  translation 
to  be  "substantially  accurate."  After  their  confirmation  the/ 
were  translated  back  into  English,  and  this  new  translation  Mother 
McAuley  found  did  not  atrree  exactly  with  the  original ;  the  errors 
she  pointed  out  were,  however,  immediately  rectified.  The  first 
printed  copies  of  the  Rule  were  those  sent  from  the  Propaganda  to 
the  Bishops  in  whose  dioceses  convents  of  the' Order  were  located 
iu  1841.* 

*  In  the  last  edition  of  the  Bule,  pnbliahed  in  Dublin  with  the  imprimatur 
of  U.  £.  Cardinal  Callan,  and  certified  by  Monaignore  Forde,  who  "  carcfiillr 


I  ^Miiiinr* 


■* 


kUW".-lJil..       I|.<B- 


4S8 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


The  examination  of  the  Knle,  and  the  effort  to  hare  it«i  inaccu- 
racies rectified,  occupied  the  time  of  the  Foundress,  and  the  recti- 
fying of  these  \:ea  almost  the  last  act  of  her  life.  She  rallied  for 
a  coaple  of  weeks,  without  any  new  indication  of  her  approaching 
demise.  Present  at  every  community  exercise  when  she  was  scarce 
able  to  crawl,  it  was  with  difficulty  the  Sisters  persuaded  her  to 
allow  herself  the  comfort  of  retiring  in  the  evening  an  hour  before 
the  appointed  time.  When  her  cough  was  unusually  bad  at  night, 
she  seemed  greatly  distressed  next  day  lest  she  had  disturbed  any 
of  the  Sisters  who  slept  near  her  cell,  and  she  would  sweetly  apolo- 
gize when  they  came  to  sec  her,  for  having  made  so  much  noise  at 
a  time  of  strict  silence.  Weak  and  exhausted  as  she  was,  the  Sis- 
ters could  not  believe  her  to  be  in  danger  of  death,  because  they 
considered  her  indispensable  to  themselves  and  to  th(;ir  infant  In- 
stitute. But  that  Institute  was  Ilis  work  more  than  hers,  and  she 
had  ever  taught  them  that  its  prosperity  did  not  depend  on  any  in- 
dividual, but  on  a  continuation  of  His  blessing.  She  herself  knew 
what  was  coming;  she  set  all  in  order,  and  when  she  had  arranged 
her  papers,  turning  to  Sister  M.  Teresa  Carton,  she  said  :  "  Now, 
they  are  ready,  my  child."  Calmly  she  settled  all  her  business,  as 
if  she  were  going  to  be  absent  for  a  long  time  ;  but  this  excited  no 
alarm,  as  she  always  did  so  before  setting  out  on  foundations.  After 
death,  her  papers  were  found,  every  one  in  its  own  place ;  the 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  which  had  passed  through  her 
hands  were  accounted  for  to  the  very  farthing,  in  the  clear,  concise 
method  of  book-keeping  which  she  had  adopted  ;  wills,  deeds,  and 
legacies  were  arranged  in  order,  and  an  index  showed  where  each 
item  could  be  found  ;  such  of  her  correspondencef  as  might  not,  if 

examined  it,"  to  be  "  Hubfltantialty  accurate,"  the  latter  rooommonda  that  th< 
Italian  always  be  pnblished  with  the  Engliah,  "  tlie  better  to  decide  any  quu- 
tiona  tliut  may  arise."  The  word  dotuna,  for  instance,  admits  of  two  render- 
ings, yot,  after  nil,  both  come  to  the  same  thing,  so  far  as  the  Order  is  con- 
corned,  In  translating  the  passages  in  which  it  occurs  :  "  Non  si  ammetters  tl- 
onna  a  dotxtna,  ud  cccoziono  di  una  foudatrloe,  o  grando  benefuttrioe."  (Cnpo 
viii.  s.  4.)  And  :  "  Siocome  le  sorelle  Ui  quosta  Santa  Congrogazione  aono  dedi- 
catl  ai  povori— e  sicconie  6  loro  rigorosamente  proiblto  di  ricevere  a  doM4na, 
non  si  aprirA  aloun  nuovo  Monastoro,  se  non  abbia  una  oerta  rendlta  pel  luo 
nantenimento,"  etc.  Cnpo  x.  I>*gU  SkAUitMiUi, 
i  As,  for  instance,  the  letter*  of  Uishop  Blake  and  Bi«hop  Haly  on  the  chsp- 


ii*  iiiiiliiSiiB 


iBY. 

to  hare  ite  inaccftt- 
ress,  and  the  recti- 
fc.  She  rallied  for 
of  her  approaching 
rhen  she  was  scarce 
I  persuaded  her  to 
ning  an  hoar  before 
isually  bad  at  night, 
e  had  disturbed  any 
would  sweetly  apolo- 
de  so  much  noise  at 
as  she  was,  the  Sia- 

death,  because  they 
I  to  thdr  infant  In- 
re  than  hers,  and  she 
ot  depend  on  any  in- 
;.  She  herself  knew 
»eu  she  had  arranged 
•n,  she  said:  "Now, 
id  all  her  business,  as 
;  but  this  excited  no 
)n  foundations.  After 

its  own  place  ;  the 
1  passed  through  her 
r,  in  the  clear,  concise 
ted  ;  wills,  deeds,  and 
X  showed  where  each 
encef  as  might  not,  if 

ter  rooommonda  that  lh« 
letter  to  decide  any  quc»- 
se,  admita  of  two  render- 
j  far  as  the  Order  is  con- 

:  "  Non  si  ommettera  »1- 
,ndo  benefttttrioe."    (Cnpo 

Congrogaziono  sono  deJi- 
bito  di  ricevore  a  dotttM, 
una  certa  rondita  pel  suo 

BitUop  Haly  on  the  ch»^ 


LITE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


429 


produced,  prove  agreeable  to  persons  still  living,  and  such  as  was 
strictly  confidential,  could  not  be  found,  she  probably  having  de- 
stroyed it  to  prevent  any  unpleasant  consequences.  As  far  as  she 
could,  she  made  the  way  easy,  as  she  would  say,  for  her  successor; 
and  one  could  not  examine  her  papers,  arrangements,  etc.,  spiritual 
and  temporal,  without  seeing  that  "He  that  feareth  God,  ney- 
lecteth  nothing." 

During  life  she  always  manifested  a  singular  devotion  to  the 
abandonment  of  Jesus  on  the  cross  ;  in  death  she  desired  to  par- 
ticipate in  this  sorrow.  She  preserved  silence  as  to  what  she  knew 
to  be  inevitable,  lest  the  Sisters  should  send  to  distant  Houses  for 
her  old  companions,  whom  she  always  particularly  esteemed,  and 
whom,  according  to  nature,  she  might  rejoice  to  see  thronging 
around  her  death-bed. 

laincy  question.  As  they  entirely  agrreed  with  her,  passages  in  their  letter* 
miglit  be  considered  strictures  on  Dr.  Meyler,  whose  own  Bishop  did  not  deem 
it  necessary  to  interfere  in  this  matter. 


17* 


fli    'ft«,         f 


^mm 


m 


SK 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

All  Saints'  Day. — All  Souls'  Day. — Joy  of  the  Foundress  at  the  approach  of 
death. — She  reoeives  the  Last  Sacraments, — Her  last  moments. — The  rullDg 
passion  strong  in  death. — Her  obsequies. — The  remains  of  her  departed  chil- 
dren are  brought  home. — Her  personal  appearance. — Her  portrait. — Statistics 
of  ther  Order. 


BROWN  October  had  robbed  the  trees  of  their  beanty  ;  nature 
was  stripped  of  her  fairest  ornaments  ;  the  birds  had  flown 
to  a  more  genial  clime ;  but,  though  the  bright  and  beantifnl 
things  of  nature  had  faded,  nature's  God  remained,  as  ever,  with- 
out vicissitude.  The  glorious  festival  of  All  Saints,  so  consoling, 
80  inspiring,  came  round.  With  what  fervor  did  our  dying  saint 
celebrate  it  t  It  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  heaven,  when  the  beauteous 
things  of  earth  have  vanished,  reminding  ns  that  in  onr  tme  home 
all  things  will  be  made  new  forever.  Other  feasts  show  us  Jesus 
the  Head,  or  Mary  the  Mother  of  the  Church,  or  angels  her 
guardians,  or  saints  her  body ;  but,  on  this,  the  gates  of  heaven 
are  thrown  open  to  us,  "  poor,  banished  children  of  Eve."  There 
we  see  Jesus,  the  First-born  of  the  samts,  Mary,  the  Queen  of 
saints,  and  mUIions  of  ransomed  sodIs,  of  every  tribe  and  tongue 
and  people  and  nation :  souls  decked  in  the  fair  garb  of  baptismal 
innocence,  and  souls  adorned  with  the  martyrs'  palm  ;  the  souls  of 
our  parents,  our  brothers,  oar  friends — those  who  had  the  same 
trials  and  temptations  as  we,  who  wallced  in  the  same  streets,  who 
prayed  in  che  same  church — those  who  instrncteri  us,  who  loved 
us.  They  pray  for  us  now — charity  is  perfected  in  heaven  ;  they 
ardently  long  for  our  arrival  among  them — their  bliss  will  not  be 
complete  without  us.  Our  thrones  await  us :  when  shall  we  be 
summoned  to  fill  them?  When  shall  we  increase  that  "great 
mnltitade  which  no  man  could  number?"  This  feast  is  placed 
near  the  end  of  the  ecclesiastical  year,  when  tho  fallen  leaf  is 


LIFE  OF  OATHEBmX  KCAULKT. 


481 


BR  at  the  nppronohof 
momenta.— The  ruling 
s  of  her  departed  chil- 
ler portrait.— SUtietics 

leir  beauty ;  nature 
ihe  birds  had  flown 
right  and  beautiful 
lined,  as  ever,  with- 
iaints,  so  consoling, 
did  our  dying  saint 
when  the  beauteous 
it  in  our  true  home 
easts  show  us  Jesus 
irch,  or  angels  her 
he  gates  of  heaven 
in  of  Eve."    There 
iary,  the  Queen  of 
ry  tribe  and  tongue 
r  garb  of  baptismal 
'  palm  ;  the  souls  of 
who  had  the  same 
le  same  streets,  who 
Qctef'  us,  who  loved 
«d  in  heaven ;  they 
leir  bliss  will  not  be 
when  shall  we  be 
icrease  that  "great 
This  feast  is  placed 
in  the  fallen  leaf  ia 


beautifully  teaching  us  that  all  we  love  on  earth  must  sooner  or 
later  vanish  from  our  view  ;  it  opens  heaven  to  us  "  towards  even- 
ing, when  the  day  is  far  spent."  I^  o  wonder  that  t!ie  dying  servant 
of  God  longed  for  her  release,  sighing,  with  the  Prophet,  "  How 
miserable  am  I  that  my  exile  is  so  prolonged  P  or,  with  her  be- 
loved St.  Teresa : 


"  Ah  I  Lord,  my  life  and  living  hreatb, 
Take  me,  oh  1  talte  ma  from  this  death, 
And  burst  the  bars  that  sever  me 

From  my  true  life  above  I 
Think  how  I  die  Thy  f&ce  to  see,    :  '' : 
And  cannot  live  away  from  Thee,  ,,•  ^^ : , 

Oh,  my  Eternal  Love  1"    ,- 


And  gazing  in  spirit  on  her  departed  children,  whom  she  fondly 
called  her  "  Community  in  heaven,"  v?ith  what  ardor  did  she  not 
exclaim,  "  O  Jesus  !  First-boni  of  the  el^st  I  Saint  of  saints,  and 
King  of  glory !  l  mand  me  to  come  to  Thee,  that,  with  Thy 
saints,  I  may  praise  Thee  forever  and  ever !"         'isVit/,-' 

Though  the  Church  sometimes  celebrates  the  glory  of  thousands 
of  her  children  in  a  single  day,  still  the  year  is  not  long  enough  to 
commemorate  the  millions  and  billions  of  her  sainted  children. 
Bat,  on  this  day,  not  a  member  of  the  Triumphant  Church  is  for> 
gotten.  All  are  praised  and  venerated  by  their  b'^thren  of  the 
Militant  Church. 

Nor  was  the  Feast  of  All  Souls  less  animating  to  the  departing 
Foundress.  How  often,  during  life,  and  still  more  at  the  approach 
of  death,  did  she  not  sigh  for  that  "  Eternal  Best"  which  the 
Church  so  lovingly  and  so  perseveringly  implores  for  her  departed 
children. 

Death  hovered  around  her  yet  a  few  days,  as  though  this  king 
of  terrors  were  afraid  to  make  her  his  prey.  Consumed  by  love 
rather  than  pain,  her  light  v/ent  out,  but  slowly.  Like  the  glorious 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  she  longed  to  be  dissolved  and  be  with 
Christ.  Like  the  same  Saint,  charity  and  zeal  so  urged  her,  that 
she  seemed  not  to  have  elbow-room  in  this  world. 

All  her  life  she  appears  to  have  had  a  peculiar  gift  of  joy  ;  and 
during  the  too  short  period  of  her  religious  life,  she  never  seemed 


.  imiiiiPPiifrfTirm'fir 


482 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBmE  UOAULEY. 


weary  of   expatiating  on  what  she  called  "the  joys  of  her 
state." 

"We  must  be  happy,"  ihe  said,  "while  the  spirit  of  onr  snlh 
lime  vocation  animates  as."  She  could  not  understand  sadness  in 
Beligious.  The  joy  of  a  good  conscience,  the  joy  of  spending 
themselves  in  the  service  of  Christ,  the  joy  of  wearing  the  livery 
of  such  a  Master,  ought  to  beam  on  their  very  faces,  she  thought. 
She  bad  seen  and  mingled  with  the  world  daring  the  greater  part 
of  hei  life,  and  she  had  seen  it  under  favorable  aspects,  for  her 
friends  and  connections  were  all  estimable  persons  ;  yet  she  ever 
held,  that  if  there  is  true  happiness  on  earth,  it  is  found  in  the  Re- 
ligious life ;  by  those  who  are  animated  with  the  spirit  of  their 
vocation.  Writing  to  a  lady  about  to  join  her  Institute,  she  thus 
concludes  her  account  of  the  day's  employments  :  "  After  supper, 
we  make  a  visit  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  then  go  to  recrea- 
tion ;  and  you  never  saw  such  a  happy,  merry  party,  nor  never 
will,  except  in  a  Beligious  community."  To  Sister  M.Catherine,  in 
Galway,  she  writes  :  "  While  the  spirit  of  your  vocation  animates 
your  actions,  happiness  must  await  you,  even  when  you  have  many 
charges  to  bring  against  yourself  in  your  dally  examens."  Id 
another  letter,  she  says :  "  How  sweet,  how  blessed  is  our  life, 
which  affords  so  much  solid  eqjoyment  when  all  that  the  world 
values  is  shut  out  from  m.  O  blessed  and  happy  life  which  makes 
death  so  sweet  1" 

Towards  the  end,  her  joy  became  so  int«nse,  that,  when  asked 
by  her  friend,  Dean  Gaflfney,  whether  she  still  experienced  that  fear 
of  dying  which  at  one  time  threatened  to  become  excessive,  sh* 
replied  :  "  If  I  thought  death  could  be  so  sweet,  I  never  should 
have  feared  it.    Our  Lord  has  spared  me  very  much." 

One  of  the  Sisters  having  remarked  that,  after  doing  bo  macli 
for  God  and  His  poor,  the  Foundress  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  could 
have  nothing  to  fear,  the  latter  said,  impressively  : 

"My  child,  let  ns  never  think  of  what  we  have  done  bnt 
rather  of  what  we  might  have  done,  had  we  been  more  faitbfiil 
stewards  of  God's  gifts  and  graces." 

If  Alexander  sighed  when  the  philosophers  told  him  the  stars 
were  worlds,  because  there  were  many  worlds,  and  be  had  not  yet 


^ 


iBT. 

"the  joys  of  her 

I  spirit  of  oar  snb- 
lerstand  sadaess  in 
be  joy  of  spending 
wearing  the  livery 
faces,  she  thought, 
ig  the  greater  part  • 
ble  aspects,  for  her 
•sons  ;  yet  she  ever 
t  is  found  in  the  Re- 
i  the  spirit  of  their 
r  Institute,  she  thus 
its  :  "  After  supper, 
i  then  go  to  recrea- 
Ty  party,  nor  never 
ister  M.Catherine,  in 
ir  vocation  animates 
when  you  have  many 
daily  examens."    Id 
r  blessed  is  our  life, 
1  all  that  the  world 
ppy  life  which  makes 

se,  that,  when  asked 
experienced  that  fear 
)ecome  excessive,  shi 
sweet,  I  never  should 
y  much." 

after  doing  so  mnch 
Order  of  Mercy  could 
vely  : 
we  have  donct   bat 
e  been  more  faithful 

rs  told  him  the  stars 
I,  and  he  had  not  yet 


LIFE  OF  CATHBRINB  MCAULEY. 


433 


conq^e^ed  one,  mnch  more  did  Catherine  McAuley  sigh,  because 
there  were  so  many  sinners  in  the  one  worid  she  knew,  and  3he  had 
won  so  few  of  them  back  to  their  Creator. 

During  the  Octave  of  All  Saints,  her  exhaustion  became  so 
great,  that  she  was  unable  to  leave  her  bed  ;  yet  she  would  not 
grieve  the  Sisters  by  telling  them  that  the  hand  of  death  was  on 
her.  Bat  her  debility  increasing,  the  last  Sacraments  were  ad- 
ministered on  Monday,  the  8th  of  November,  the  Sisters  still 
clinging  to  the  hope  that  Extreme  Unction  would  restore  her. 
But  God  decreed  otherwise.  ;  . /;  j  v  . 

To  one  of  her  children,  S.  M.  Gertrude  B ,  who  came  from 

a  distance  to  see  her  about  this  time,  she  said  : 

"  Have  you  received  the  necessary  permission  to  leave  home,  my 
child?"  i,;::  fiK^vft -gsica  "  .^5;£;*«.;  ,>u.i;  i, ;.,■;;':■;-  ■ 

The  Sister,  who  was  a  local  Superior,  candidly  confessed  she  had 
not,  and  Mother  McAuley  having  embraced  her  with  a  fervent 
"  God  bless  you,"  desired  her  to  return  dkectly. 

Mother  Elizabeth,  of  Limerick,  came  with  "  the  necess' ./  per- 
mission" to  see  if  there  were  any  real  danger  of  death.  Her  dying 
Mother  received  her  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  and  when  she  left 
the  room,  called  the  infirmarian,  and  said  : 

"  Who  sent  for  Sister  M.  Elizabeth,  my  child  ?" 

The  Sister  replied,  that  Mother  di  Pazzi  and  the  Community 
Sisters,  fearing  there  was  some  danger  of  death,  wished  some  of 
tiie  old  Sisters  to  come  and  see  her.  -^-i  •' v 

One  gleam  of  a  long-suppressed  aflfection  now  burst  from  the 
expiring  saint.  Of  the  two  Sisters  whom  she  had  reproached  her- 
self with  loving  too  well,  in  1837,  one  was  still  living,  but  at  a 
distance.  Naturally,  she  might  wish  to  see  this  cherished  friend 
once  more  ;  but  grace  would  not  allow  such  a  gi-atificatiou  to  na- 
ture, and  she  expressed  no  wish  on  the  subject.  Fearing,  however, 
that  the  Sisters  might  anticipate  her  natural  desires,  she  said,  some- 
what cageriy  to  the  infirmarian.  Sister  M.  Teresa  Carton  : 

"Sister,  have  they  sent  for  my  child?"  And  on  receiving  a 
negative  reply,  she  raised  her  eyes  towards  heaven,  but  said 
nothing.  The  Sister,  in  deference  to  what  she  knew  to  be  the 
wishes  of  her  dying  Mother,  did  not  mention  this  circumstance  till 

19 


,.  .■^,LL,ij|g»ijp>*'MweaMap"*itt 


484 


LITE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


the  Foundress  was  beyond  all  danger  of  participating  in  mere  ha- 
man  gratification. 

On  Tuesday,  November  9th,  she  handed  to  the  same  Sister  her 
discipline,  still  reeking  with  her  blood,  ordering  her  to  put  it  in 
the  fire,  and  see  that  it  was  burned.  The  same  day  she  gave  to 
Mother  Elizabeth  a  parcel  carefully  tied  np,  desiring  her  not  to 
let  any  one  see  the  contents.  It  was  supposed  that  it  contained, 
among  other  things,  her  old  shoes,  which  were  nowhere  to  be' 
found  after  her  death,  and  which,  it  was  often  observed,  seemed 
to  fit  her  very  uneasily.  Owing  to  the  "  reserve"  which  she  prac- 
tised far  better  than  she  preached,  the  full  amount  of  her  mortifi- 
cation can  be  known  only  to  God.  But  when  life  was  extinct,  the 
scarred  shoulders,  the  lacerated  feet,  and  the  attenuated  frame, 
eloquently  testified  that  she  had  "  borne  about  in  her  body  the 
mortification  of  Christ." 

At  four  A.  M.  on  Thursday,  November  11,  she  called  the  infirmar 
rian,  and  said  : 

"  My  darling,  could  you  have  this  bed  moved  to  the  middle  of 
the  room  ?    I  shall  soon  want  air." 

It  was  only  after  she  had  said  this,  that  the  Sisters  believed  she 
would  never  leave  that  bed  alive. 

She  expressed,  several  times,  an  ardent  desire  that  the  prayers 
of  the  poor  might  be  procured  for  her  soul,  and  especially  the 
prayers  of  the  servants,  to  whom  she  had  ever  been  so  much  de- 
voted. But,  with  her  usual  beautiful  considerateness,  she  remarked 
that  it  would  be  troublesome  for  the  Sister  in  charge  of  these  to 
make  this  request  of  each  one  of  them  as  they  happened  to  come; 
and  she  suggested  that  a  card  could  be  hung  up  in  the  Servants' 
Office,  on  which  one  of  the  Sister's  should  print : 
"  Pray  fob  t6e  Soul  op  poor  Cathkrinb  McAulet." 
This  little  incident  shows  her  deep  humility.  She  had  the 
highest  idea  of  the  dignity  of  the  Heligious  state,  and  she  used 
often  say  to  the  Sisters  :  •'  There  is  more  difference  between  what 
you  were  in  the  world  and  what  you  are  now,  than  there  is  between 
the  rudest  peasant  and  the  greatest  princess  on  earth."  And  in 
her  last  appeal  for  the  prayers  of  the  poor,  she  used  not  the  title 
wliich  Beligioa  gave  her,  and  of  which  she  deemed  herself  utterly 


fLET. 

icipating  in  mere  ha- 

the  same  Sister  her 
ing  her  to  pot  it  in 
me  day  she  gave  to 
,  desiring  her  not  to 
id  that  it  contained, 
were  nowhere  to  be' 
ten  observed,  seemed 
rve"  which  she  prac- 
loant  of  her  mortifi- 
1  life  was  extinct,  the 
le  attenuated  frame, 
out  in  her  body  the 

he  called  the  infirma- 

ed  to  the  middle  of 

i  Sisters  believed  she 

lire  that  the  prayers 
il,  and  especially  the 
ver  been  so  much  de- 
ateness,  she  remarked 
n  charge  of  these  to 
!y  happened  to  come; 
^  up  in  the  Servants' 
int : 

E   McAULET." 

aility.  She  had  the 
3  state,  and  she  used 
ETerenco  between  what 
,  than  there  is  between 
;  on  earth."  And  in 
she  used  not  the  title 
deemed  herself  utterly 


liIPE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


435 


unworthy,  but  her  secular  narae,  and  that  still  further  qualified  in  a 
manner  that  showed  she  felt  ber  need  of  the  prayers  she  was  so  eager 
to  obtain. 

About  seven,  she  said  she  would  like  to  see  the  Sisters  indi- 
vidually, and  as  each  one  came,  she  gave  to  her  the  spiritual  ad- 
vice best  suited  to  her  particular  necessities  ;  but  with  every  one 
of  them  she  began  and  ended  by  inculcating  perfect  union  and 
charity.  To  all  in  general  she  said  :  "  My  legacy  to  the  Institute 
is  charity.  If  you  preserve  the  peace  and  union  which  have  never 
yet  been  violated  amongst  us,  you  will  feel,  even  in  this  world,  a 
happiness  that  will  surprise  you,  and  be  to  you  a  foretaste  of  the 
bliss  prepared  for  every  one  of  you  in  heaven." 

She  then  called  again  the  venerable  Sister  M.  Genevieve,  who 
had  affectionately  nursed  James  McAuley,  the  last  of  his  aunt's 
"earthly  joys,"  and  consequently  was  particularly  dear  to  the  dy- 
ing Foundress.  In  the  natural  course  of  things.  Sister  M,  Gene- 
vieve's death  could  not  be  far  off,  and  her  Mother,  as  if  to  encour- 
age her  to  think  happily  of  it,  exclaimed  : 

"  My  fears  have  all  vanished,  Sister  darling.  I  feel  exceedingly 
happy."  Thus  did  she  strive  to  encourage  and  console  others 
when  hardly  able  to  speak  herself. 

To  the  very  last  she  recognized  every  one  that  entered  the  room. 
Seeing  her  god-child  Teresa  (little  Sister  Camillus)  weeping  bitterly, 
she  said  to  her  :  "  Kiss  me,  my  heart,  and  then  go  away,  but  don»t 
be  crying."  It  was  not  easy  to  obey  the  last  injunction.  She  had 
held  Teresa  at  the  baptismal  font,  she  had  reared  and  educated  her, 
she  had  been  for  years  her  spiritual  Mother  ;  how  could  the  poor 
young  Sister  restrain  her  tears  when  she  saw  herself  about  to  lose 
the  gentle  guardian  of  her  childhood  ? 

About  half-past  eight,  the  Holy  Sacrifice  w»s  offered  in  her 
room.  While  preparing  for  Mass,  she  called  a  Sister  and  said 
that  as  she  had  been  anointed  without  the  usual  ceremony, — rather 
to  hasten  her  recovery  than  to  prepare  her  for  death,— it  would 
be  a  comfort  to  her  to  see  the  Church-cloaks  on  the  Sisters  once 
more.  She  always  directed  that  these  white  cloaks  should  be  worn 
at  the  last  anointing  and  burial  of  her  Religious,  as  well  as  at  Re- 
ceptions and  Professions  :  "  for,"  said  she,  "  the  burial-service  of 


wmm 


tn 


"LITE  OF  CATHEBIKE  MCAULET. 


a  Religioas  is  a  heavenly  ceremony,  more  so  than  any  Kece})tion 
or  Profession." 

Abont  eleven,  her  breathing  became  greatly  oppressed,  bnt,  dis- 
tressing  as  it  was  to  make  the  effort,  she  spoke  as  calmly  and 
cordially  as  ever  to  those  who  visited  her.  On  this  dall  JS'overa- 
ber  day  "  the  sun  mast  have  shone  very  brightly"  to  her,  for  in 
reply  to  a  remark  of  Father  Gaffney's,  she  said  :  "  Oh,  if  this  be 
death,  it  is  easy  indeed  ;"  and  she  repeated  the  same  several 
times.  To  her  brother,  who  asked  whether  she  had  any  thing  pa^ 
ticular  to  say  to  him,  she  replied  : 

"  Nothing,  James,  only  what  I  have  so  often  said  before.  Re- 
turn to  the  Faith  of  your' Fathers."    >    aa-  ~  t  :l,-^^".  >  «4 

She  was  particularly  affectionate  with  Very  Rev.  Dean  Meyler, 
as  if  to  show  how  completely  she  had  forgiven  the  annoyance  he 
once  caused  her  ;  and,  though  he  had  never  granted  her  any  thing, 
she  received  him  as  cordially  as  she  would  Bishop  Blake,  and  said, 
confidingly : 

"  You  will  be  a  father  to  my  poor  children  when  I  am  no  more  ? 
I  know  you  will." 

The  Dean,  deeply  moved,  answered  that  he  would  ;  and  the 
promise  he  then  made  was  toell  redeemed.  In  future,  the  Order 
had  no  better  friend. 

With  Rev.  Messrs.Walsh,  of  Kingstown,  O'Carroll  and  O'Hanlon, 
of  Dublin,  she  spoke  so  serenely  and  collectedly,  that  they  could  not 
believe  death  was  so  near.    To  the  physician,  she  said,  pleasantly : 

"  Well,  doctor,  the  scene  is  drawing  to  a  close." 

She  then  thanked  him  for  his  attention,  and  gratefully  acknowl- 
edged his  kindness,  though  she  had  not  been  benefited  by  his 
skill.  At  the  vesper  hour  (five  r.  m.),  she  asked  for  the  blessed 
candle  ;  this  she  held  firmly  for  some  time,  bat,  as  it  burned  too 
brightly  for  her  failing  sight,  she  entreated  the  inflrmarian  to  re- 
place it  by  a  smaller  one.  But,  weak  as  her  sight  was  becoming, 
■he  noticed  that  the  Sisters  who  surrounded  her  had  not  taken 
any  supper,  and,  with  that  exquisite  considerateness  for  others, 
which  was  always  a  prominent  feature  in  her  beautiful  character, 
she  called  the  Sister  who  presided  over  the  culinary  department, 
and  made  on  effo  j  to  whisper : 


XT. 

:han  anj  Eecqttion 

oppressed,  bat,  di8< 
lokc  as  calmly  und 
1  this  dall  Noveni- 
htly"  to  her,  for  in 
I :  "  Oh,  if  this  be  . 
1  the  same  several 
had  any  thing  pa^ 

n  said  before.    Re- 

Rcv.  Dean  Meyler, 
1  the  annoyance  he 
mted  her  any  thing, 
op  Blake,  and  said, 

rhen  I  am  no  more  1 

le  wonld  ;  and  the 
n  future,  the  Order 

irroll  and  O'Hanlon, 
,  that  they  could  not 
she  said,  pleasantly : 
se." 

gratefully  acknowl- 
jn  benefited  by  his 
sked  for  tlie  blessed 
ut,  as  it  burned  too 
he  inflrmarian  to  re- 
sight  was  becoming, 

her  had  not  taken 
Tateness  for  others, 

beautiful  character, 
culinary  department, 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


487 


"  My  child,  the  poor  Sisters  look  greatly  fatigued  ;  be  sore  yoo 
have  a  comfortable  cup  of  tea  for  them  when  I  am  gone."  Some 
of  the  Sisters  had  ccme  from  ii  distance  to  be  present  at  her  Xaai 
moments,  and  she  feared  that,  for  the  first  time,  the  duties  of  hos- 
pitality might  be  forgotten  or  neglected  at  St.  Mary's. 

She  continued  praying  and  responding  to  the  prayers  for  the 
departing  as  long  as  she  was  able.  Mother  Elizabeth  having  said 
for  her  a  favorite  prayer  of  hers,  she  turned  her  head  towards  her, 
and  said,  impressively,  "  May  God  Almighty  bless  you,  my  child." 
About  a  quarter  to  eight,  the  Sifters,  fearing  she  did  not  hear  tho 
consoling  jirayers,  suggested  to  Mother  Elizabeth,  who  was  recit- 
ing them,  to  raise  her  voice  a  little,  which  she  did  ;  but  the  dying 
Foundress  at  once  said,  "  N^o  occasion  to  speak  so  loud,  my  dar- 
ling :  I  hear  distinctly."  A  few  minutes  before  eight,  she  gave  an 
affectionate  blessing  to  all  her  children,  present  and  absent,  and 
then  calmly  closed  her  eyes  to  open  them  no  more.  Seldom  has  God 
summoned  from  earth  a  soul  so  well  fitted  "  to  deck  His  paradis<}." 

"  The  poor  Sisters,"  says  the  annalist,  "  now  had  recourse  to 
their  Heavenly  Father,  and,  with  touching  earnestness,  prated 
Him  to  receive  their  cherished  Mother,  and  to  look  with  com- 
passion ou  themselves.  They  besought  grace  to  become  worthy  of 
their  sainted  guide,  and  calm  resignation  to  sustain  their  heavy 
affliction. 

"  The  death  of  any  one  to  whom  the  survivor  has  been  united  is 
a  bereavement — it  «  hard  to  look  the  thought  full  in  the  face  that 
we  shall  never  see  such  a  one  agam.  But  when  that  one  has  been 
light  to  one's  feet,  the  stay  and  encouragement  of  moments  of  trial 
— moments  when  God's  servant  is  so  necessary  to  expiniu  God's 
dealings,  and  to  point  out  the  opening  dawn  in  the  dark  night- 
time—the removal  of  such  a  one  is,  for  a  while  at  least,  a  foretaste 
of  death  to  those  who  remain  behind.  Accustomed  to  rely  and 
confide  and  lovingly  obey,  and  thinking  of  nothing  else,  when  the 
spring  of  activity  breaks,  everything  appears  in  confusion — i,o  want 
an  aim  and  a  use.  Thus,  for  a  moment,  the  poor  Sisteni  found 
themselves,  when  they  sank  on  their  knees  to  beg  God's  prcitection, 
and  to  end  by  saying,  as  Jesus  had  said  before  them,  *  Not  my 
will,  0  heavenly  Father,  but  thine  be  done  1'" 


438 


LITE  OP  catherhtk  mcatilkt. 


Great  as  this  affliction  was,  it  had  nonA  of  the  marks  of  an 
angry  cross  ;  "  there  was  no  disanion,  no  gloomy  depression  of 
spirits  resulting  from  it."  The  orphan  Sisters  exclaimed,  with  one 
accord,  "  God's  will  be  done  ;"  and  they  "  loved  Him  •as  well  when 
He  took,  as  when  He  gave."  Besides,  they  were  determined  to 
keep  her  precious  remains  ;  and  when,  on  Friday,  the  Archbishop 
paid  his  visit  of  condolence  to  the  Community,  he  gave  permission 
to  have  the  part  of  the  garden  the  Foundress  had  designed  for  a 
cemetery  consecrated. 

Even  this  singularly  accorded  with  her  wishes  ;  for  the  expense 
of  procuring  the  kind  of  coffins  necessary  to  prevent  the  deleterious 
effects  decomposition  might  produce  in  a  pnblic  church,  did  not 
seem  to  her  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  perfection  of  poverty, 
and  she  often  said,  "  When  I  go,  I  hope  I  shall  be  laid  in  the 
eartii  like  the  poor." 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say  that  every  thing  appertaining  to 
the  Foundress  was  seized  by  her  orphan  children.  Her  books, 
articles  of  clothing,  autograph  letters,  etc,  are  still  preserved  with 
veneration.  Her  successor  in  office,  M.  M.  di  Fazzi  Delany,  with 
con«'iierate  kindness,  sent  some  littjp  memento  of  the  sainted 
Mother  to  each  of  the  distant  convents.  Miracles  are  said  to 
have  bcou  wronjrhl  ivith  some  of  these,  and  the  late  pious  and 
talented  Mother  Mary  V.  Hartnett,  of  Roscommon,  has  left  it 
on  record  that  she  "never  a°ked  God  to  grant  her  any  favor, 
thronjjh  the  merits  of  His  servant  CatlK.rlne,"  without  obtaining  her 
re.;.i;est.  Only  the  oldest  Sisters  ever  prayed  for  her,  and  this  they 
did  in  consequence  of  a  promise  they  had  made  her.  The  Bequiem 
Mass,  usually  celebrated  in  every  House  of  the  Order,  on  the  11th  of 
November,  is  oflFered  for  the  deceased  members  of  the  Institute. 

On  Saturday,  13th  November,  1841,  Catherine  McAuley  was 
"  laid  in  the  earth  like  the  poor,"  her  old  and  devoted  friend.  Dr. 
Kinsella,  Bishop  of  Ossory,  presiding.  Archbishop  Murray,  on 
account  of  illness,  was  unable  to  attend,  and  Bishop  Ein.selia, 
therefore,  preached  tbe  funeral  oration  of  her  whom  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  c^il  ''  tlic  Saint."  Five  bishops  and  sixty  priests  cele- 
brated hcT  obsequi.  "\\d  foliov.d  her  to  the  grave.  A  little  more 
than  a  month  bcfo:a  her  death,  she  had  attained  her  fifty-fourth 


:<BT. 


LIFB  OF  CATHEBINi:  MOAULBT. 


439 


of  the  marks  of  an 
)omy  depression  of 
exclaimed,  with  one 
1  Him -as  well  when 
nrere  determined  to 
ay,  the  Archbishop 
he  gave  permission 
had  designed  for  a 

es  ;  for  the  expense 
vent  the  deleterious 
)lic  church,  did  not 
•fection  of  poverty, 
hall  be  laid  in  the 

ling  appertaining  to 
Idren.     Her  books, 

still  preserved  with 
Pazzi  Delany,  with 
ato  of  the  sainted 
[iracles  are  said  to 
the  late  pious  and 
:onmion,  has  left  it 
rant  her  any  favor, 
ithont  obtaining  her 
)r  her,  and  this  they 
her.  The  Requiem 
)rder,  onthellthof 
of  the  Institute, 
erinc  McAnley  was 
devoted  friend.  Dr. 
bishop  Murray,  on 
1  Bisliop  EiiiHcIia, 

whom  he  did  not 
id  sixty  priests  cele- 
ave.  A  little  more 
led  her  fifty-fourth 


year.*  A  small  cross,  bearing  her  name  and  the  date  of  her 
death,  marks  the  spot  where  her  sacred  remains  repose,  but  her 
noblest  monument  is  the  Order  of  Mercy.  In  a  few  days,  her 
children  who  slept  at  St.  Teresa's  were  brought  home  and  depos- 
ited around  her. 

Catherine  McAuley  was  above  the  middle  size,  rather  slight  in 
youth,  but  in  after  life,  full  though  not  corpulent.  Her  figure  was 
very  fine — erect  and  well-proportioned  ;  she  moved  or  sat  with 
utmost  grace.  At  any  period  of  her  life  she  might  be  pronounced 
handsome,  for  ^ears  and  sorrows  dealt  very  gently  with  her  beauty; 
but  there  was  a  something  in  her  look  superior  to  beauty,  which 
cliarmed  every  beholder.  Her  complexion  was  transparently  fair, 
iier  cheeks  rosy,  her  eyes  were  deeply,  dorkly,  beautifully  blue  ;  her 
features  well  formed,  her  contour  soft.  Serenity  and  intelligence 
beamed  on  her  countenance,  but  benevolence  was  its  prevailing  ex- 
pression. Her  eyes  were  singularly  expressive,  and  her  glance  so 
penetrating,  that  with  a  look  she  seemed  to  read  your  inmost  soul. 
Those  who  had  given  her  cause  of  displeasure,  almost  quailed 
before  her  eye,  till  reassured  by  her  smile.  Her  hands  and  feet, 
though  not  •"  aristocratically  small,"  were  well  shaped  and  in  pro- 
portion. In  the  phrenological  formation  of  her  head,  the  organs 
of  benevolence  and  veneration  were  very  strongly  developed. 

No  accurate  likeness  of  the  Foundress  exists,  as  there  never  was 
one  taken  during  her  life.  After  her  death  a  sculptor  was  em- 
ployed to  take  a  cast  of  her  features,  and  the  Sister  frequently 
mentioned  in  her  letters  in  connection  with  the  fine  arts,  painted 
in  oil  a  life-size  portrait,  which  Is  considered  tolerably  correct, 
though  taken  from  a  corpse.  She  is  represented  in  a  sitting  pos- 
ture, clothed  in  the  costume  of  her  Order,  and  holding  the  book  of 
the  Knles.  Her  eyes  are  very  beautiful,  her  hps  somewhat  thin, 
and  the  formation  of  the  mouth  indicative  of  much  firmness. 
Her  hands  are  fair,  plump,  and  finely  shaped.  The  expression  of 
the  countenance  is  serene  and  dignified,  the  posture  easy  and  grace- 
ful, and  the  tout  ensemble  very  pleasing.    The  original  is  in  Baggot- 


■  iiy  in  i-|«^HWif^i;!<ijiM>w 


440 


LIFE   OP   CATHERINE  MCaULEY. 


\ 


t  . 


Street,*  but  several  other  convents  possess  copies.  Every  one 
acquainted  with  Motbei  McAuley  bears  witness  that  her  very  look 
inspired  love  of  virtue,  and  that  her  whole  demeanor  evinced  cor- 
Btant  recollection  of  the  presence  of  God.  "  Her  deportment  was 
ever  kind  and  compassionate  to  the  poor,"  says  one  of  her  biogra- 
phers, "  and  ever  maternal  to  the  Sisters,"  They  loved  her  as  a 
mother,  and  revered  her  as  a  Saint,  while  she  venerated  them  as 
spouses  of  Christ,  and  loved  them  as  her  most  dear  children.  She 
one  3  admitted  that  she  had  seen  "  human  weakness  "  in  a  Sister, 
but  such  were  her  heroic  charity  and  the  immense  allowances  she 
made  for  natural  character,  early  training,  peculiarities  of  con- 
stitution, and  other  accidental  circumstances,  that  in  her  volum- 
inous correspondence  which  is  always  addressed  to  her  subjects, 
and  in  which  she  is  constantly  speaking  of  her  inferiors,  she  never 
charges  any  one  with  a  positive  fault. 

Bishops  and  divines  who  revered  her,  and  Sisters  who  loved  her 
intensely,  have  sought  to  portray  !n;r  character,  but  this  will  be 
best  done  in  the  words  which  she  herself  applied  to  a  Sister  in 

1839  :     "  Sister  Mary  C f  is  a  delightful  addition— always 

recollected,  but  never  too  solemn — no  show  of  any  kind,  but  every- 
thing valuable  shows  itself  continually.  She  is  evidently  selected 
for  a  great  work — every  day  becomes  more  pleasing  and  amiable 
— she  yields  to  the  opinion  of  others  like  a  little  child,  and  you  feel 
irresistibly  drawn  to  hers,  by  the  very  manner  in  which  she  sub- 
mits. She  teaches  me  by  her  example  what  genuine  meekness 
and  humility  are," 

The  Sisters,  to  evince  their  affection  for  dear  Reverend  Mother's 
memory,  and  to  honor  her  Patron  Saint,  changed  the  title  of  Bag- 
got-street  Convent  from  St.  Mary's  to  St,  Catherine's.  Nor  have 
they  been  without  a  confident  hope  that  their  own  Saint  Catherine 

*  Tho  likeness  in  this  booli  is  taken  from  a  small  portrait  executed  from  momor; 
by  ono  of  the  Sisters,  Though  not  exprosiivo  of  all  the  ease  and  sweetness  of  the 
original,  it  is  a  fairly,  accurate  likeness, 

t  This  Sister  was  an  English  convert  of  high  birth,  and  so  singularly  gifted  by 
nature  and  education,  that  her  friends  declared  they  never  would  give  her  in  mar- 
riage to  any  one  less  than  a  prince !  She  kept  them  to  their  word,  and  espoused 
the  King  of  heaven.  However,  she  was  nearly  forty  years  old  before  they  could 
be  prevailed  on  to  part  with  her. 


^mm 


mma 


BY. 


LIFB  OF  CATHEBINE  MOaULET. 


441 


jopies.  Every  one 
3  that  her  very  look 
leanor  evinced  coi- 
ler  deportment  was 

one  of  her  biogra- 
hey  loved  her  as  a 

venerated  them  as 
dear  children.  She 
kness"  in  a  Sister, 
mse  allowances  she 
eculiarities  of  cou- 
that  in  her  volura. 
ed  to  her  subjects, 

inferiors,  she  never 

sters  who  loved  her 
er,  but  this  will  be 
plied  to  a  Sister  in 
il  addition — always 
any  kind,  but  every- 
is  evidently  selected 
leasing  and  amiable 
e  child,  and  you  feel 
:  in  which  she  snb- 
t  genuine  meekness 

Reverend  Mother's 
ed  the  title  of  Bag- 
lierine's.  Nor  have 
wn  Saint  Catherine 

t  executed  from  momor; 
use  and  sweetness  of  the 

1  ao  singularly  gifted  by 
r  would  give  her  in  mar- 
leir  word,  and  espoused 
rs  old  before  they  could 


will  one  day  participate  in  the  title  and  the  honors  of  the  Saint 
of  Sienna. 

Tlie  Order  of  Mercy  commenced  in  Ireland  1827,  was  introduc- 
ed into  England  in  1839,  to  Newfoundland  1842,  to  the  United 
States  1843,  to  Australia  1845,  to  Scotland  1849,  to  New  Zealand 
1849,  and  to  South  America  in  1856.  Ac  present  (1866)  the 
number  of  convents  is  over  two  hundred,  and  the  members  of  the 
Order  over  three  thousand.  Considering  that  more  than  half  the 
Sisters  join  the  Institute  under  twenty,  and  nearly  all  under  twen- 
ty-eight or  thirty,  the  mortality  is  very  large.  It  was  twenty-five 
per  cent,  the  first  ten  years  of  the  existence  of  the  Order,  and  has 
since  been  above  ten  per  cent. ;  and  amotij:  all  the  Sisters  of  Mercy 
scattered  over  the  world,  there  are  scarcely  twelve  who  have  at- 
tained the  age  of  fifty.  Mother  McAuIey  used  to  say  that,  sub- 
tracting the  period  of  novitiate  and  that  of  declining  health,  few 
of  her  children  would  give  much  more  than  ten  years  of  active 
service  to  the  Order.  Just  ten  years  she  gave  herself,  but  what  a 
service  hers  was  I 

Between  endowments  and  the  surplus  dowries  of  the  Sisters,  the 
poor  in  Ireland  have  received,  through  this  Order  alone,  during  the 
first  thirty  years  of  its  existence,  three  million  five  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars.*  In  England  the  amount  is  proportionally  great, 
rnd  the  aggregate  sum  given  by  bequest  in  both  countries  must  be 
very  large,  but  we  cannot  ascertain  the  exact  amount. 

In  a  letter  alluding  to  the  affairs  of  Kingstown  Convent,  Cath- 
erine McAuley  wrote  with  exqusite  simplicity :  "  God  knows  that 
I  would  rather  be  cold  and  hungry  than  that  His  poor  should  suf- 
fer want."  How  would  she  have  felt  had  she  lived  to  see  her  un- 
happy country  depopulated  at  the  rate  of  "  a  million  a  decade  "  by 
famine,  pestilence,  and  eciigruilcu  ? 


*  Very  Rev.  Dr.  O'Brien  gives  the  amount  as  jeTOO.OOO. 
19* 

1  ■..(  ,li:.: 


•  Lc„  Ji^U' 


i;'*. 


I 


CHAPTER    XLII. 


Letter  of  Bishop  Blaks.— Letter  of  Dr.  Oaffney,  Dean  of  Maynooth.— Obituary, 
from  the  Halifax  RegitUr. 


FROM  the  letters  of  condolence  that  flowed  into  Baggot-street 
after  the  death  of  the  Foundress,  we  select  two,  written  re- 
spectively fty  the  Bishop  of  Dromore  and  the  Dean  of  Maynooth, 
who,  as  her  intimate  friends  and  sometimes  her  spiritual  directors, 
were  well  qualified  to  speak  of  her.    The  former  writes  : 

"  We  have  all  reason  to  weep  at  the  loss  which  Ireland  nnd 
England  have  sustained  in  the  death  of  the  crer-memorable  Foun- 
dress of  the  Order  of  MERcr.  A  more  zealous,  prudent,  disin- 
terested and  successful  benefactress  of  the  human  race,  has  not 
existed  since  the  days  of  St.  Bridget.*  She  has  been  taken  from 
us  after  bestowing  incalculable  services  and  benefits  on  her  fello;v- 
creatures.  What  she  accomplished  would  suffice  to  attach  celebrity 
to  many  individuals.  Her  course  was  long  enough  to  render  her 
name  immortal  among  the  virtuous.  But  judging  what  she  would 
do  had  she  been  left  longer  amongst  us,  from  what  she  executed 
amidst  difficulties  and  trials  of  no  ordinary  magnitude,  we  cannot 
but  lament  her  departure,  and  we  are  tempted  to  exclaim  :  '  Oh, 
it  was  too  soon  i'  But  Qod's  holy  will  be  adored  at  all  times  ;  to 
Him  we  are  indebted  for  all  that  she  did  ;  from  Hira  she  received 
the  spirit  that  animated  her  pure  soul.  His  Providence  guided  her 
steps,  removed  her  difficulties,  strengthened  her  heart,  and  ensured 

*  Tlie  thouBandB  of  virgins  who,  in  the  palmloRt  days  of  the  Irish  Church, 
served  Qod  under  t.ho  Kiilo  of  tlie  groat  St.  Bridget,  (t'\ero  are  fourteen  St. 
Bridgets  coinuiemoru*od  in  the  Irish  calendar),  were  not  cloUtored,  though 
bound  by  tlio  vows  of  Ucliglon,  They  chanted  the  office  in  choir,  but  at  stated 
bourn  performed  tlio  works  of  mercy  towards  their  loss  favored  follow-oreaturos, 
Porhnps  this  ia  wliy  Uight  Bov.  Dr.  Blake  alH-\}'s  puts  St  Bridget  nud  Catherine 
McAuley  together. 


HMB 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


443 


Maynooth.— Obituary, 

into  Baggot-street 
ct  two,  written  re- 
•ean  of  Maynooth, 
spiritual  directors, 
r  writes  : 

which  Ireland  find 
T-mcmorable  Foun- 
ous,  prudent,  disin- 
mari  race,  has  not 
3  been  taken  from 
fits  on  her  felloiy- 
to  attach  cciebrity 
ugh  to  render  her 
ig  what  she  would 
vhat  she  executed 
jnitude,  we  cannot 
to  exclaim  :  '  Oh, 
d  at  all  times  ;  to 
Him  she  received 
vidence  guided  her 
beart,  and  ensured 

of  the  Irish  Church, 
ere  are  fourteen  St. 
ot  cloistered,  though 
n  choir,  but  at  stated 
3red  fullow-oreaturos. 
iridgct  Hiid  Catherine 


her  success.  By  His  ever-watchful  care  and  ever-assisting  grace, 
CTcry  opportunity  of  doing  good  was  turned  to  advantage,  every 
undertaking  well  prcconsidered,  every  work  made  yolid  and  perma- 
nent ;  and  though  her  sojourn  here  was,  alas !  too  short  for  our 
wishes,  it  was,  nevertheless,  so  far  prolonged  as  to  have  enabled 
her  to  finish  the  great  machine  she  planned  and  constructed  for 
the  glory  of  God,  the  salvation  of  souls,  and  the  corporal  relief  of 
the  destitute.  Let  the  holy  will  of  God  fie  ever  adored — let  us 
bless  His  name  at  all  times  ;  and  in  this  moment  of  bereavement, 
while  we  lament  the  loss  such  a  removal  has  occasioned,  let  us  be 
grateful  for  the  benefits  conferred,  and  profit  of  the  good  example 
still  fresh  before  our  minds. 

"Most  earnestly  and  sincerely  do  I  sympathize  with  all  the 
members  of  the  Holy  Order  of  Mercy.  Most  ardently  do  I  be- 
seech  the  God  of  all  consolation  to  pour  His  healing  balm  into 
their  woundi^d  feelings,  and  in  this  trying  conjuncture,  while  their 
hearts  are  mellowed  with  love,  grief,  and  gratitude,  to  fill  them  all 
with  the  spirit  of  prayer.  Although  the  Foundress  was  holy,  and 
eminently  holy,  still  she  was  a  human  being,  liable  to  human 
temptations  and  infirmities,  and  obliged  daily  to  repeat  that  hal- 
lowed petition — '  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,'  Let  us  now  be 
mindful  of  her,  and  by  our  fervent  supplications  obtain  for  her,  if 
indeed  she  need  it,  the  entire  remission  of  the  smallest  debt  which 
could  retard  her  admission  into  the  realms  of  bliss. 

"  Your  letter,  dear  Sister,  reached  me  just  as  I  was  going  to  the 
Altar  this  mri-ning.  On  seeing  the  black  seal  I  hastily  opened  it, 
and  my  heart  m  intensely  filled  with  grief;  but  this  was  useful,  I 
hope,  in  making  me  offer  the  Divine  Sacrifice  of  propitiation  for 
the  happy  repose  of  that  dear,  departed  friend,  whom  I  ever 
esteemed  and  reverenced,  and  whose  memory  I  shall  ever  value  and 
revere." 

Very  Rev.  Dr.  Gaffney  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  in  speaking  of  the  revered  Foundress  of  the 
Sistars  of  Mercy,  to  conjure  np  an  imaginary  picture  of  perfection 
and  benevolence,  and  then  apply  it  to  the  character  we  wish  to 
praise.  No :  her  eulogy  would  be  written  by  the  mere  mention  of 
one  hundredth  part  of  what  she  has  done  for  suffering  and  destituto 


444 


LIFE  OF  CATHMBINB  MCAULET. 


hnmanity.  In  1830  she  entered  tbe  Presentation  Conrent,  George's 
Fill,  to  prepare  herself  for  the  great  work  she  was  about  to  aader- 
take.  In  1831  she  began  the  foundation  of  the  Order  of  Mercy, 
and  in  1841  she  died.  How  short  the  time,  yet  how  wonderful 
the  works  of  that  mighty  mind — of  that  expansive  heart.  They 
would  hardly  seem  credible,  had  they  not  happened  in  our  own 
time,  and  passed  nuder  oar  own  eyes. 

"This  great  and  good  woman  had  three  objects  in  \io\\  ,u 
founding  the  Order  of  Mercy — the  instraction  of  poor  girls,  the 
visiting  and  relief  of  the  sick,  and  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
care  of  distressed  women  of  good  character  ;  and  far  beyond  her 
own  most  sanguine  expectations  she  succeeded  in  realizing  her 
desures.  Whoever  visits  the  schools  of  Baggot-street  will  be  con- 
soled and  delighted  by  the  scene  that  presents  itself  to  his  view 
But  what  shall  I  say  of  her  charity  towards  poor  servants  who 
had  no  resource,  no  friends,  no  home?  She  built  a  house  for 
them,  she  supported  them,  she  clothed  them,  she  instructed  them, 
she  provided  situations  for  thousands  of  them.  K  all  this  good 
has  been  effected  by  one  convent  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  how  much 
may  be  effected  by  the  fourteen  convents  she  was  instrumental  in 
establishing  ? 

"  Pew  ever  left  this  world  that  could  with  greater  confidence 
expect  to  hear,  on  the  great  accounting  day,  from  the  lips  of  our 
Divine  lledeemer,  'Come,  you  blessed  of  my  Father,  possess 
the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  ;  for  I  was  hungry,  and  you  gave 
me  to  eat ;  I  was  thirsty,  and  you  gave  me  to  drink  ;  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  you  took  me  in  ;  naked,  and  yon  covered  mo  ;  sick, 
and  yon  visited  me;  I  was  in  prison,  and  yon  came  to  me.  As  much 
as  you  did  it  to  one  of  these  my  least  brethren,  you  did  it  to  me.' 

"  Catherine  McAnley's  death  was  such  as  might  be  expected 
from  a  life  replete  with  good  works.  It  was  the  death  of  the  just, 
which  is  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  Her  soul  was  calm  and 
joyful,  and  perfectly  rchigned  to  the  Divine  will.  The  Sisters  of 
Mercy  have  one  more  advocate  in  heaven.  May  their  Order  pros- 
per 1  May  they  ever  keep  before  their  eyes  the  example  left  them 
by  their  Foundress.  May  they  ever  imitate  her  virtues,  and  they 
will  have  glory  before  Qod  and  man." 


[iET. 


LIPB  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


445 


in  Convent,  George's 
was  about  to  under- 
the  Order  of  Mercy, 
yet  how  wonderful 
jansive  heart.  They 
ppened  in  our  own 

J  objects  in  vio^\  m 
n  of  poor  girls,  the 
ritual  and  temporal 

and  far  beyond  her 
led  in  realizing  her 
ot-street  will  be  con- 
nts  itself  to  his  view 
8  poor  servants  who 
e  built  a  house  for 
she  instructed  them, 
m.  If  all  this  good 
of  Mercy,  how  much 

was  instrumental  in 

th  greater  confidence 
from  the  lips  of  our 
my  Father,  possess 
lungry,  and  you  gave 
)  to  drink  ;  I  was  a 
m  covered  me  ;  sick, 
;ame  to  me.  As  much 
•en,  you  did  it  to  me.' 
s  might  be  expected 
the  death  of  the  just, 
[er  soul  was  calm  and 
will.  The  Sisters  of 
May  their  Order  pros- 
the  example  left  them 
her  virtues,  and  they 


Of  the  numerous  obituaries  that  appeared,  we  give  the.followiDg, 
abridged  from  the  Halifax  Register:*  ',;  rniti.jaa  s?.: 

"  The  amiable  Foundress  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  has  departed  to 
that  land  '  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary 
are  at  rest.'  Ireland  proclaims  the  loss  to  be  a  national  one,  and 
a  thousand  hearts  lament  it  with  the  deep  intensity  of  domestic 
sorrow.  Many  a  houseless  orphan,  to  whom  her  institution  gave  a 
■resting-place  ;  many  a  straying  one,  to  whom  it  gave  virtue  and  a 
name  ;  many  a  child  of  poverty,  to  whom  it  opened  the  ample 
pages  of  sacred  and  profane  learning,  will  gaze  with  a  tearful  eye 
and  a  full  heart  on  the  grave  of  Catherine  McAuley  1  It  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that  one  of  the  most  saintly  prelates  of  the  Irish 
Church  has  declared  that,  since  the  days  of  St.  Bridget,  his  country 
has  seen  no  such  benefactress.        4-4  Act  -fti  ^^^fcji  yi.:- 

"  At  an  early  age,  Catherine  was  adopted  by  a  rich  Protestant 
fauiiiy,  and  she  lived  to  see  the  venerable  parents  of  her  adoption 
received  into  the  Catholic  Church.  She  became  heiress  to  their 
immense  wealth,  having  previously  become,  through  her  own  great 
merit,  the  object  of  their  affection,  respect,  and  admiration.  And 
truly,  few  could  bo  found  so  transcendantly  fascinating  in  person 
and  manner  as  the  venerated  Foundress.  The  bright  intelligence 
of  her  all-accompUshed  mind  addressed  you  in  every  glance  of  her 
calm,  but  penetrating  eye  ;  and  as  it  diffused  itself  over  her  fea- 
tures, cast  in  the  finest  mould  of  benevolence,  but  on  which  passion 
had  never  left  trace  or  shadow,  you  could  scarcely  imagine  any  ono 
physically  or  iutellectnally  superior  to  the  Foundress  of  the  Order 
of  Mercy.  Before  her  death,  she  beheld  her  Institute  diffusing  its 
blessings  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  Hun- 
dreds of  consecrated  virgms  owned  her  epuritual  parentage  with 
pride,  and,  taught  by  her  example  and  instruction,  ministered  like 
angels  of  light  at  the  death-beds  of  penury,  and  in  haunts  of  misery 
and  destitution.    For  some  years  she  had  become  the  centre  of 

*  In  a  lute  memoir  of  the  FoundresB,  this  obituary  is  not  correctly  quoted. 

Througli  tlie  kindness  of  Motlier  Elizabeth  8 ,  of  Pittsburg,  wlio  loaned  us 

the  original,  wo  ore  enabled  to  give  a  correct  copy.  Wo  have  made  one  omis- 
sion—the  reason  which  delayed  Dr.  O'Brien  in  Dublin,  1883— wUioh,  of  oonne, 
would  bu  irrelevant  here.        -r^Aoo^  li^ij  /t    ■'M^ti   ;,    >U    iiv 


w^ 


wmm 


■  AAA 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


attraction  to  the  h\^  and  titled  of  the  three  kingdoms.  Her 
time  was  much  occupied  in  bestowing  those  attentions  which  the 
distingnished  cf  every  coantry  demanded  from  her  high  position 
and  exalted  character.  No  variety  of  intercourse  could  exhanst 
the  versatility  of  her  conversational  powers,  no  difference  of  char- 
acter could  baflle  her  penetration.  Whether  her  visitor  were  a 
votary  of  this  world  or  the  next,  he  quitted  her  presence  in  aston- 
ishment at  her  powers,  and  in  admiration  of  her  virtues. 

"  But  Nova  Scotia  itself  owes  Mother  McAaley  and  her  Order 
a  debt  of  gratefnl  remembrance,  which  no  country  could  be  more 
ready  to  acknowledge.  Very  Eev.  Dr.  O'Brien  had  a  considerable 
delay  in  Ireland  between  the  period  of  his  engagement  by  Most 
Bev.  Archbishop  Murray,  and  that  of  his  departure  for  Halifax. 
It  was  natural  that  the  possibility  of  introducing  the  Order  into 
this  province  should  become  the  object  of  his  thoughts.  He  had 
been  engaged  to  deliver  a  few  lectures  to  the  nuns  of  Tul'amore. 
Their  convent  had  just  been  built  at  an  expenditure  of  some 
thousands.  The  community  comprehended  many  accomplished 
young  ladies,  who  had  recently  abandoned  their  happy  homes  ;  yet, 
at  the  bare  mention  of  the  wants  of  a  new  country,  every  indi- 
vidual of  the  community  offered  to  abandon  friends  and  country  to 
encounter  poverty  and  privation  in  Nova  Scotia. 

"Some- time  after,  the  same  clergyman's  surprise  at  the  self- 
devotion  of  the  children,  was  not  a  little  increased  by  the  heroism 
of  the  parent.  He  preached  in  Dublin  to  a  numerous  community, 
including  the  venerable  and  lamented  Foundress.  He  expressed  a 
hope  that  a  branch  of  the  Order  of  Mercy  might  be  introduced 
into  Halifax  by  its  respected  Prelate.  After  a  few  days,  when 
Catherine  McAuley,  unknown  to  the  world,  had  contemplated  the 
sacrifice  she  was  about  to  make — li  sacrifice  much  exaggerated  by 
false  notions  of  our  climate  and  state  of  society — she  declared  her 
intention  of  devoting  herself,  if  permitted,  for  the  rest  of  her  days, 
to  Nova  Scotia.  To  every  representation  of  the  loss  that  would 
accrue  to  her  native  country,  she  calmly  replied  :  '  The  Institute 
does  not  require  me  at  home.  It  has  young,  intelligent,  and  de- 
voted children,  and  I  may  be  fit  for  the  rough  work  to  be  encoun- 
tered in  a  ne.v  region.'    When  spoken  to  regarding  the  funds 


,EY. 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULEY. 


417 


ree  kingdoms.  Her 
ittentions  which  the 
a  her  high  position 
ourse  could  exhanst 
)  difference  of  char- 
r  her  visitor  were  a 
If  presence  in  aston- 
er  Tirtues. 

Lnley  and  her  Order 
intry  could  be  more 
n  had  a  considerable 
engagement  by  Most 
jarture  for  Halifax, 
icing  the  Order  into 

thoughts.     He  had 

nuns  of  Tul'amore. 
ixpenditure  of  some 

many  accomplished 
ir  happy  homes  ;  yet, 

country,  every  indi- 
riends  and  country  to 
ia. 

surprise  at  the  self- 
eased  by  the  heroism 
umerous  community, 
iss.  He  expressed  a 
might  be  introduced 
sr  a  few  days,  when 
ad  contemplated  the 
nnch  exaggerated  by 
ity — she  declared  her 
>  the  rest  of  her  days, 
'  the  loss  that  would 
tiled  :  '  The  Institute 
y,  intelligent,  and  de- 
i  work  to  be  eacoun- 

regarding  the  funds 


necessary  for  such  an  object,  she  smiled,  and  said  :  '  For  ourselves 
we  need  none.  We  shall  teach  a  day-school  in  addition  to  the 
poor-school ;  and  yon  know  not,  Sir,  upon  how  little  a  nun  can 
live.' 

"  We  have  dwelt,  perhaps,  too  fondly  on  these  details  ;  but 
the  recollection  of  Mother  McAuley  calls  up  associations  endear- 
ing by  their  holiness,  and  by  the  remembrance  of  the  country  which 
they  bless  whUe  it  cherishes  them.  She  is  gone  I  The  blessed 
benefactress  of  her  race  had  not  the  coveted  happiness  of  closing 
her  eyes  in  this  distant  region  ;  bat  there  is  no  child  of  the  Faith 
vMch  she  professed,  of  the  religion  for  which  she  lived,  and  in 
whose  service  she  yielded  her  last  breath,  that  will  not  cherish  the 
remembrance  of  her  heroic  virtues." 


r-cK  .'.'t      ''. 


«tt,  ,\-  ft   \ 


i^s>rt  !'it''w)i"i''  m; 


iW'j^ 


v:^ 


iZi^- 


'a^-^^^     CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Mother  MoAuIey's  views  on  various  snbjeots.  —  Gentleness.— St.  Anaelm.— 
St.  Catherine  of  Bologna. — Sweetness  and  condescension. — Importance  of 
the  education  of  women.— Patron  Saints.— Amusing  anecdote.— Converts.— 
Kegnlar  observance.— Works  of  literature  and  art.— M.  I'Abb^  Gron.— 
Mother  MoAuley's  special  devotions. — Her  abstraction.— Her  appreciation  of 
the  Sisters.- Her  unbounded  confidence  in  them.— Profession  and  renovation. 

—Prayer.— De  La  Mennaia. 

'*■  ■■ 

TO  the  last,  Mother  McAuley  paid  the  same  attention  to  the 
manners  of  the  Sisters.  "A  Religious,"  she  would  say, 
"  should  be  a  perfect  lady.  As  spouse  of  Christ,  her  manners 
should  be  dignified ;  as  modeled  on  Christ,  she  should  ever  bo 
sweet,  kind,  and  gracious."  To  a  Superior  who  urged  her  to  ad- 
mit a  young  person  with  whom  she  was  unacquainted,  she  wrote : 
"  If  her  manners  are  not  plain,  if  she  is  rather  nice  than  otherwise, 
I  think  they  could  take  her  in  Galway.  You  would  not  bring  dis- 
credit on  me  ;  and  if  the  little  lady  is  not  such  as  I  describe,  you 
will  tell  me."  St.  Mary  Magdalen  di  Pazzi  desired  that  her 
novices  should  be  a«  uncultivated  as  wild  deer.  How  diflferent  is 
Reverend  Mother's  opinion  I  Yet  what  would  suit  Carmelites,  des- 
tined to  live  between  the  cell  and  the  choir,  might  be  very  wnsuit- 
able  for  Sisters  of  Mercy,  established  to  edify  and  instruct  the 
world,  and  to  seek  outside  the  cloister  to  relieve  Jesus  Christ  io 
His  suffering  members.  The  Foundress  would  never  admit  any 
one  whose  manners  were  not  calculated  to  win  respect.  Even  in  Lay 
Sisters,  she  looks- for  "  manners  and  appearance  suitable  to  persons 
who  must  be  seen  in  public."  If  the  Sisters  were  to  be  employed 
only  in  saving  their  own  souls,  all  this  would  be  superfluous.  But 
they  had  also  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  their  neighbor,  in  the 
manner  their  Rule  directs.  They  had  to  confer  with  physicians  in 
hospit4l8,  with  inspectors  in  schools,  with  persons  of  every  rank 


.:\ 


LlfE  OF  CATHEBIKK  MCaULEY. 


449 


itleness. — St.  AoBelm.— 
ension. — Iinportauce  of 
anecdote. — Converts.— 
t.— M.  VAbhi  Gron.— 
1. — Her  Appreciation  of 
>fe»slon  and  renovation. 


ae  attention  to  the 
!,"  she  would  say, 
Dhrist,  her  manners 
she  should  ever  bo 
10  urged  her  to  ad- 
nainted,  she  wrote : 
nice  than  otherwise, 
nrould  not  bring  dis- 
ss I  describe,  you 
d  desired  that  her 
•.  How  different  is 
suit  Carmelites,  dcs- 
ght  be  very  wnsuit- 
Fy  and  instruct  the 
eve  Jesus  Christ  in 
d  never  admit  any 
spect.  Even  in  Lay 
i  suitable  to  persous 
rere  to  be  employed 
e  superfluous.  But 
iir  neighbor,  in  the 
r  with  physicians  in 
sons  of  every  rauk 


and  profession  in  the  parlors.  Now,  if  fliey  could  not,  on  all  occasions, 
appear  before  the  world  as  gentlewomen,  religion  would  be  the  suf- 
ferer. Hence,  she  continually  impressed  on  them  that  each  one  of 
them  had  the  reputation  of  the  whole  Order  to  sustain  ;  that,  while 
individual  virtues  are  reputed  to  their  owners,  individual  faults  are 
charged  upon  th3  whole  Institute  ;  and  that  upon  the  reputation  the 
Order  sustains,  depends,  in  a  great  measure,  its  power  of  doing  good. 
She  took  every  possible  precaution  before  receiving  a  Sister,  but  once 
entered,  all  were  treated  with  democratic  impartiality — the  gover- 
ness, the  daughter  of  a  merchant  or  professional  man,  the  reduced 
lady,  the  simple  country-girl,  and  the  countess  who  had  laid  aside 
the  coronet  to  assume  the  veil — all  performed  the  same  duties;  there 
were  no  distinctions — virtue  was  the  only  aristocracy  acknowledged 
by  the  Foundress  ;  and,  if  she  valued  talent,  as  she  certainly  did, 
it  was  only  when  it  became  the  handmaid  of  virtue.  In  the  novi- 
tiate and  community-room,  all  conversations  tending  to  nourish 
family  pride  were  prohibited ;  one  Sister  seldom  knew  who  the 
other  was — the  Foundress  had  made  the  necessary  inquuies,  and, 
once  inside  the  walls,  all  were  known  only  as  Spouses  of  Jesns 
Christ,  Sisters  of  Mercy,  and  Servants  of  the  Poor. 

To  the  end,  she  practised  the  same  unfailing  gentleness  to  every 
one.  "I  have  tried  all  methods  of  governing,"  says  St.  Jane 
Frances  de  Chantal,  "  and  I  have  always  found  that  to  be  best 
which  is  based  on  meekness  and  condescension."  Our  Foundress 
could  not  say  as  much  :  she  had  never  tried  any  method  bat  one, 
and  that  was  the  gentlest  of  the  gentle.  When  any  thing  was  to 
be  done,  she  entreated  in  the  humblest  terms — a  command  never 
issued  from  her  lips.  Her  very  manner  of  addressing  the  Sisters 
won  them.  Whether  in  speaking  or  writing  to  them,  she  alwuys 
prefaced  her  remarks  by  some  endearing  epithet,  as  "my  dearest 
child,"  "my  heart,"*  "my  darling,"  etc.  She  loved  to  yield  to 
them  as  much  as  possible,  and,  like  St.  Anselm,  she  took  this 
method  to  prove  that  she  had  become  a  little  child  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  She  strove  even  to  gratify  their  inclinations,  and, 
when  she  could  not  do  so,  she  was  sure  to  make  up  for  the  disap- 

•  Alachrtt,  "  my  lieart,"  is  a  common  term  of  endearment  in  Ireland,  A  still 
warmer  expression,  Outhla  machrer,  "  pulse  of  my  heart,"  is  also  common. 


matm 


460 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


poiatment  in  some  way  or  other.  "  Sister  M.  Teresa,"  she  wrote, 
"  must  come  with  me  to  Carlow,  to  the  ceremony  ;  she  was  so 
disappointed  at  not  going  to  the  consecration  of  the  chapel,  that  I 
must  bring  her  this  time."  She  condescended  to  the  harmi  ss 
peculiarities  of  every  one — weak  with  the  weak,  and  strong  with 
the  strong,  she  was  all  things  to  all,  that  she  might  gain  all  to 
Christ ;  and  when  unable  to  grant  a  request,  or  net  on  a  su/j^es- 
tion,  her  refusal  was  couched  in  terms  that  placed  you  under  a  new 
compliment. 

The  nuns  of  St.  Catheriuf  of  Bologna  often  complained  that 
their  Rule  lost  its  force  because  of  the  excessive  lenity  of  the 
Saint,  who  never  could  see  a  fault  in  any  of  them  ;  and  when  their 
faults  were  pointed  out  to  her,  she  would  manifest  the  preatest 
surprise,  and  obstinately  refuse  to  see  them  as  faults.  Similar 
objections  might  be  urged  against  Mother  McAuley's  government, 
but  they  would  be  urged  in  vain,  for  she  thought  that,  by  their 
very  name,  Sisters  of  Mercy,  her  children  were  bound  to  pourtray 
to  the  world  tlio  sweetness  of  Jesus  ;  and  how  could  she  expect 
them  to  do  this  if  she  did  not  set  them  the  example  ?  "  The  doc- 
trine of  Christ  surpasseth  the  doctrines  of  the  saints,"  and  He  was 
the  meek  '*  Lamb  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world."  This 
sweetness,  this  pliability,  is  not  a  mark  of  weakness,  but  of 
strength ;  those  who  exercise  it  from  supernatural  motives,  have 
the  power  of  acting  in  a  contrary  manner  ;  and  that  they  prefer  to 
exercise  the  meekness  of  Jesus,  proves  that  they  have  perfectly 
overcome  themselves,  and  thus  achieved  the  greatest  of  all  vic- 
tories. "  He  who  prevents  his  neighbor  with  the  blessings  of  his 
sweetness,"  says  St.  Fr  lucis  de  Sales,  "  is  the  the  most  perfect 
imitator  of  our  Lord." 

The  following  exquisite  passage  from  the  same  Saint  will  de- 
scribe Mother  McAuley  no  les^  accurately  than  it  does  St.  An- 
selm  : 

"  When  St.  Anselm  was  Abbot,  he  was  extremely  beloved  by 
every  one,  because  he  was  very  condescending,  bending  to  the 
wishes  of  all.  One  said  to  liim,  '  Father,  take  a  little  broth,'  and 
ho  took  some.  Ano'her  sai  \  'Father,  that  will  do  you  harm,' 
and  he  directly  leit  it.    Thui  he  submitted,  in  every  thing  that 


I 


LET. 

Tcrosa,"  she  wrote, 
pinony  ;  fihe  was  so 
»f  the  chapel,  that  I 
cd  to  the  harnii  ss 
lak,  and  strong  with 
le  might  gain  all  to 

or  act  on  a  su.r(?es- 
:ed  you  under  a  new 

en  complained  that 
;essive  lenity  of  the 
3m  ;  and  when  their 
lanifest  the  prcatest 
as  fanlts.  Similar 
A.uley's  government, 
lught  that,  by  their 
e  bound  to  pourtray 
w  could  she  expect 
ample  ?  "  The  doo- 
saints,"  and  He  was 
f  the  world."  This 
weakness,  but  of 
itnral  motives,  have 
1  that  they  prefer  to 
they  have  perfectly 
greatest  of  all  vic- 
the  blessings  of  his 
le  the  most  perfect 

same  Saint  will  de- 
an it  does  St.  Au- 

ctremely  beloved  by 
ng,  bending  to  the 
)  a  little  broth,'  and 
will  do  you  harm,' 
in  every  thing  that 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


451 


did  not  offend  God,  to  the  will  of  his  brothers,  who,  no  doubt,  fol- 
lowed their  own  inclinations.     Now  this  great  pliancy  of  the  Saint 
was  II'      pproved  by  all,  tiiough  he  was  very  much  beloved  by  all; 
so  that  one  day  some  of  his  brethren  poii  ted  out  to  him  that  he 
ought  not  to  be  so  yielding  and  condescending,  but  to  make  those 
of  whom  he  had  charge  bend  to  his  will.    '  Oh,  my  children,'  re- 
plied the  great  Saint,  ♦  perhaps  you  are  not  aware  of  the  reaHon 
why  I  do  it.     Know,  then,  that  remembering  our  Lord's  command 
tiiat  we  should  do  to  others  what  we  would  wish  done  to  ourselves^ 
I  cannot  do  otherwise,  for  I  wish  that  God  should  do  my  will,  and 
I  willingly  do  that  of  my  brothers  and  neighbors,  in  order  that  it 
may  please  our  good  God  sometimes  to  do  mine.    Besides,  I  have 
tlii^  consideration,  that  after  God's  own  signification  of  His  will  to 
t'  me,  I  can  have  no  bett'r  or  more  secure  means  of  ajscertaining 
His  good  pleasure,  than  by  the  voice  of  my  neighbor  ;  for  God 
does  not  speak  to  me,  still  less  does  He  send  angels  to  declare  to 
me  His  good  pleasure.    The  stones,  animals,  and  plants  do  not 
speak.    It  is  only  man  that  can  make  known  to  me  the  will  of  my 
God,  ainl  therefore  I  attach  myself  to  this  as  much  as  I  can.    God 
enjoins  me  charity  towards  my  neighbor;  it  is  great  charity  to  keep 
ourselves  in  union  with  each  other.    I  know  no  better  way  of  do- 
ing this  than  by  being  gentle  and  condescending  ;  a  sweet  and 
humble  condescension  should  always  preside  over  our  actions.    But 
my  principal  consideration  is  the  belief  that  God  man  iests  His 
will  to  me  by  that  of  my  brothers;  and,  therefore,  I  obey  God  when 
I  yield  to  them.    Besides,  has  not  our  Lord  said  that  if  we  do  not 
become  like  little  children  we  shall  not  enter  heaven  ?    Do  not  be 
surprised,  then,  if  I  am  as  gentle  and  yielding  as  a  little  rliild,  for 
I  am  thus  doing  what  my  Saviour  has  commanded  me.    i     is  not 
of  much  consequence  whether  I  go  there  or  stay  here,  but  there 
would  be  great  imperfection  in  not  submitting  to  my  neighbor  in 
these  things.'     'I  know  nothing  better,'    says  the  gloriou'*  St. 
Paul,  '  than  to  render  myself  all  things  to  all  men,  to  rejiacc   vith 
them  that  rejoice,  to  weep  with  them  that  weep,  and,  in  short,  to 
make     yself  one  with  each.'  "* 


S 


Conference  on  the  Will  of  God. 


m 


^ 


■*«*I!P 


452 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  M-AULEY. 


Mother  McAulcy  was  of  opinion  that  the  perfect  observance  of 
Rule  was  the  greatest  of  all  mortifications  ;  that  occasioual  severe 
disciplines,  prolonged  vigils,  and  severe  fasts,  were  incomparably 
more  easy  than  persevering  exactness  in  observiig  the  common 
Rules  every  day.  With  regard  to  corporal  roortificaliotis,  she 
thought  great  prudence  ought  to  be  used,  and  she  makes  none  ob- 
ligatory on  the  Sisters,  except  a  few  additional  fast-days.  Sha 
would  never  give  any  one  permission  to  perform  severe  nnsteritiva 
who  could  not  lead  the  common  life  perfectly,  without  requhing  a 
dispensation  from  any  of  its  observances  ;  nor  would  she  iillow  any 
that  could  incapacitate  them  in  the  least  for  the  duties  timy  are 
bound  by  vow  to  fulfil  to  the  poor,  which  are  always  fatiguing 
enough,  and  sometimes  very  great  mortifications.  She  was,  how- 
ever, never  weary  of  recommending  mortifications  of  a  nobler  and 
more  useful  description  than  tiio  hair  shirt  or  catanella,  such 
as  mortification  of  the  eyes,  of  the  other  senses,  mortification  of 
the  tongue,  which,  though  the  most  useful  of  all,  can  never,  as  St. 
Teresa  remarks,  hurt  any  one's  health.  She  preferred  frequent 
small  acts,  that  escaped  the  notice  of  others,  and  never  hindered 
the  Sisters  from  applying  to  their  duties,  to  great  acts,  which  can 
only  be  performed  occasionally,  especially  in  an  Order  devoted  to 
the  works  of  Mercy,  and  which  are  often  dangerous,  as  attracting 
observation,  or,  at  least,  tempting  the  performer  to  congratulate 
herself,  like  the  Pharisee,  on  not  being  "  as  the  rest  of  people." 
Whatever  mortifications  she  herself  performed — and  they  were 
neither  light  nor  few,  for  we  know  it  took  many  a  stroke  of  the 
chisel  to  make  of  unhewn  human  nature  so  exquisite  a  statue— 
they  never  hindered  her  from  applying  to  her  duties.  She  would 
have  deemed  it  absurd  to  use  the  discipline  to-day,  and  require 
something  better  than  the  common  fare  to-morrow ;  to  weaken  her- 
self by  fasting,  und  then  be  obliged  to  go  to  bed,  neglect  her  duties, 
or  burden  otheri^  with  them,  and  put  a  Sister  to  the  trouble  of 
waiting  ou  her. 

Mother  McAuley  considered  all  society  to  be  in  the  hands  of 
women  ;  if  wives  were  good,  they  could  save  their  husbands ;  if 
sisters  were  good,  they  could  convert  their  brothers  ;  if  mothers 
were  good,  they  could  rear  their  children  well.    She  delighted  to 


LEY. 

orfcct  (.hseiTance  of 
lat  occasioual  severe 
,  were  incomparably 
serving  ihc  common 
1  roortificationn,  she 

she  makes  uone  ob- 
onal  fast-days.  9H 
•m  severe  nnsteriti^a 
,  without  requiriDg  a 

would  she  ;illow  any 

the  duties  tlicy  are 
are  always  fatiguing 
ions.  She  was,  how- 
ions  of  a  nobler  and 
t  or  catanella,  such 
nses,  mortification  of 

all,  can  never,  as  St 
de  preferred  frequent 
!,  and  never  hindered 

;reat  acts,  which  can 

in  Order  devoted  to 
igerous,  as  attracting 
rmer  to  congratulate 

the  rest  of  people." 
med — and  they  were 
many  a  stroke  of  the 
>  exquisite  a  statue— 
T  duties.     She  would 

e  to-day,  and  require 
)rrow ;  to  weaken  he^ 
jed,  neglect  her  duties, 
iter  to  the  trouble  of 

)  be  in  the  hands  of 

re  their  husbands ;  if 

brothers ;  if  mothers 

Bll.    She  delighted  to 


LIFK  OF  CATHERINE  MOAULEY. 


453 


pithcr  poor  little  ones  about  her,  to  make  them  happy  and  to  sur- 
round them  with  holy  and  gentle  influences.  She  would  never 
hear  of  severity  with  them.  "  Theie  is  a  way  to  deal  with  them," 
she  would  say.  If  children  are  made  to  feel  that  their  teachers 
are  their  best  friends,  it  will  be  easy  to  manage  them  ;  but  as  she 
says,  speaking  on  another  subject,  "  if  our  own  hearts  be  not  af- 
fected," if  we  do  not  realize  the  importance  of  performing  our  duties 
veil,  "  in  vain  shall  we  hope  to  affect  the  hearts"  or  iustinict  the 
minds  of  those  with  whom  we  come  in  contact.  '■-  " " 

As  regards  patron  saints,  the  Foundress  wished  the  Si3ters  to 
choose  those  whom  they  could  best  imitate.  There  was  St.  Agnes, 
for  those  who  entered  very  young  ;  St.  Clare,  for  such  as  had  a 
great  spirit  of  poverty ;  St.  Cecilia,  for  the  musicians  ;  St.  Cathe- 
rine, the  philosopher,  for  the  bos  bleus ;  St.  Jane  Frances,  St. 
Paula,  etc.,  for  widows.  She  preferred  female  Saints  as  patrons 
for  the  Sisters ;  but  if  they  were  particularly  devoted  to  the 
others,  she  conceded  to  their  wishes.  Afterwards,  however,  she 
would  playfully  revenge  herself  by  styling  them,  "  My  fine  boys." 
She  would,  if  possible,  induce  them  to  be  satisfied  with  the  fem- 
inine of  the  names  they  wanted,  as  Josephine  for  Joseph,  Aloysia 
for  Aloysius,  Paulina  for  Paul,  etc.  In  addressing  each  other,  she 
wished  them  always  to  prefix  Mary  to  the  pntronal  name,  thus, 
Sister  Mary  Frances,  etc.     She  was  very  particular  about  this.* 

*  She  0DC6  related  a  droll  anecdote  in  conneotion  with  this  subject.  Her 
brother-in-law  being  called  in  for  consultation  to  a  very  bud  case  of  fever  in 
tome  convent,  noticed  that  several  of  tlic  nuns  who  surrounded  the  patient, 
spoke  T)f  "  John,"  "  Paul,"  '•  Vincent,"  "  Joseph,"  eta,  without  prefixing  the 
usual  Sitter  Mary.  The  Doctor,  who  caught  an  odd  word  of  their  discourse, 
vos  greatly  puzzled  to  know  what  this  meant.  Dissembling  his  surprise  till  bin 
return  home,  he  told  the  affair  to  his  sister,  at  dinner,  after  thus  accosting  her: 

"  Why,  Kittle,  how  is  it  that  you  never  told  me  they  had  men  among  them  in 
that  convent  V     . 

She  explained  about  the  nana  having  patron  saints  ;  but  her  brother's  guests 
could  not,  or  would  not,  understand  her.  One  of  the  gentlemen  muttered 
something  about  "  the  scent  of  the  roses,"  alluding  to  a  popular  song  which 
has  this  couplet : 

"  You  may  break,  you  may  ruin  the  vase  if  you  will. 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  v/ili  bang  round  it  still.'' 

This  set  the  whole  comj)any  laughing.  The  future  Foundress  smiled  with  the 
rest,  but  the  lesson  wan  not  lost  on  her.    Indeed,  it  was  the  critiques  i-lie  some' 


451 


LIFK  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULST. 


She  often  said,  that  if  seculars  perceived  in  Religions  the  least 
defects  contrary  to  good  breeding,  they  often  unjustly  drew  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  only  good-for-nothing  persons,  who  would 
not  bi-  tolerarod  in  refined  society,  that  entered  Religion ;  and  such 
an  inference,  with  reference  to  an  active  Order,  as  tbe  Order  of 
Mercy,  would  be  most  detrimental  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
salvation  of  souls. 

Mother  McAuley  had  the  utmost  consideration  for  converts. 
"  Those  who  have  been  always  among  Catholics,"  she  would  say, 
"can  have  no  idea  of  the  rank  prejudice  in  which  most  Protestants 
are  reared.  Every  thing  in  the  Catholic  religion  is  new  to  them. 
They  have  continually  heard  it  misrepresented,  and  it  requiires  ex- 
traordinary grace  to  overcome  prejudices  which  are  as  firmly  rooted 
as  if  they  were  born  with  them."  But  while  eager  to  make  every 
necessary  allowance  for  these  things,  she  was  opposed  to  that  glo- 
rification of  converts  so  common  in  many  instances,  as  if,  forsooth, 
Protestants  deserved  extraordinary  credit  for  preferring  a  little 
temporal  inconvenience,  to  the  fate  of  those  who,  being  enlightened, 
refuse  to  confess  Christ  before  men.  She  often  deplored  the  hold 
human  respect  has  on  our  separated  brethren,  and  which  more  than 
any  thing  else,  blinds  them  to  conviction.  She  regretted,  too,  that 
some,  who  were  willing  their  friends  should  become  Catholics,  re- 
fused to  bend  their  own  necks  to  the  sweet  yoke  of  Jesus  Christ.* 
She  had  a  peculiar  talent,  or,  rather,  a  grace,  for  working  the  con- 
version of  Protestants,  though  she  never  introduced  controversy. 

Mother  McAuley's  zeal  for  regular  observances  was  such,  that 
no  public  exercise  was  ever  neglected  in  her  convent.  "  The  per- 
fection of  ordinary  actions,"  this  was  a  favorite  theme  with  her. 
When  writiiig,  or  otherwise  occupied,  she  was  often  seen  to  panse 
and  direct  her  glance  heavenward,  after  which  she  resumed  her 


times  heard  on  nun>,  while  yet  a  secular,  that  made  her  so  scrupulously  exact 
with  reference  to  intercourse  with  worldlings. 

*  Thus  Lord  Byron,  who  sent  his  daughter  to  a  convent,  writes :  "  I  iiuva 
placed  my  daughter  AUegra  in  a  convent  of  the  Romagna,  at  much  expense,  for 
her  educutinn.  It  is  my  wi»h  that  she  should  be  a  Roman  Catholic,  whioli  reli- 
gion I  look  upou  as  tho  best,  os  it  assuredly  is  the  oldest,  of  the  varioni 
braavhes  of  Christianity."  , 


[JLKT. 

a  Religioas  the  least 
tea  unjustly  drew  the 
5  persons,  who  would 
id  Religion;  and  such 
rder,  as  ibe  Order  of 
;lory  of  God  and  the 

leration  for  converts, 
lolics,"  she  would  say, 
hich  most  Protestants 
igion  is  new  to  them, 
id,  and  it  requires  ex- 
;h  are  as  firmly  rooted 
e  eager  to  make  every 
i  opposed  to  that  glo- 
tances,  as  if,  forsooth, 
for  preferring  a  little 
irho,  being  enlightened, 
'ten  deplored  the  hold 
1,  and  which  more  than 
he  regretted,  too,  that 
i  become  Catholics,  re- 
iroke  of  Jesus  Christ.* 
3,  for  working  the  con- 
ilroduced  controversy, 
rvanoes  was  such,  that 
convent.  "The  per- 
'orite  theme  with  her. 
as  often  seen  to  pause 
rhich  she  resumed  her 

9  her  so  scrupulously  eiact 

convent,  writes :  "  I  iiave 
lagnB,  at  much  exponso,  for 
Roman  Catholic,  whicli  roll- 
tlio  oldest,  of  the  varioM 


LIFE  or  CATHERINE  MCAULBY. 


455 


work.  In  general  she  did  not  spend  more  than  the  prescribed 
time  in  prayer;  and  when  she  did,  she  rose  before  the  rest,  or  pro- 
longed her  prayer  while  they  slumbered,  that  no  one  might  be  in- 
convenienced by  her  devotion,  "  H.aving  fulfilled  the  prescribed 
exercises,"  she  would  say,  "  our  time  belongs  to  our  community  and 
the  poor."  During  her  life  several  valuable  books  were  translated, 
illuminations  and  other  works  of  art  completed,  by  her  children, 
though  how  they  fcf;a<l  time  to  accomplish  any  thing  outside  the 
ordinary  duties  of  the  Institute  was  a  marvel  to  themselves.  By 
seiz.ng  on  the  spare  moments  of  every  day,  a  great  deal  may  be 
accomplished  in  a  month.  "  Do  all  you  can  for  God,"  she  would 
often  say,  "  because  time  is  short."  She  herself  was  never  known 
to  waste  a  moment.  The  five  or  seven  minutes  her  simple  toilet 
cost,  was  a  pain  to  her.  "  What  a  pity  to  be  obliged  to  take  so 
much  trouble  about  a  life  that  passes  so  rapidly,"  she  would  say. 
"How  pleasant  it  would  be  if  we  could  invent  some  contrivance  to 
save  our  precious  time  by  dressing  only  once  a  year.  It  seems  as 
if  we  have  done  no  more  than  put  on  our  clothes  in  the  morm'ng, 
when  the  night  prayer-bell  rings."  .    ^  ,  . 

She  laid  such  stress  on  spiritual  reading,  that  she  appointed  an 
hour's  lecture  to  be  made  in  common  every  day.*  Her  favorite 
works,  after  the  Holy  Scripture,  were  the  Spiritual  Combat,  the 
Imitation  of  Christ,  and  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  especially  those 
most  devoted  to  the  sick  and  to  the  education  of  youth.  She  had 
a  iiigh  opinior  of  Rodriguez's  "  Christian  Perfection,"  but  she  con- 
sidered the  English  translation  coo  diffuse.  She  herself  wrote  an 
immense  amount  of  spiritual  matter,  consisting  of  prayers  to  be 
used  on  the  visitation  of  the  sick,  instructions  on  the  Rules,  direc- 
tions to  be  observed  in  the  schools.  House  of  Mercy,  etc.,  but  the 
result  of  much  of  her  labors  in  this  way  was  accidentally  burned. 
Looking  for  some  will  or  deed,  she  dropped  her  taper  among  her 
papers,  and  before  the  conflagration  could  be  extinguished,  most  of 
them  were  destroyed.  She  was  not  in  the  least  disturbed  at  this 
great  loss;  probably  she  thought  as  the  Abbe  Orou  did  on  a  simi- 

*  Ilulf  an  hour  in  Uie  morning,  and  llie  same  in  the  evening.  At  those  leo- 
turca  oho  allowed  tlie  Sisters  to  worlc,  paint,  or  do  any  thing  else  that  oocnpied 
tlio  flngora  und  loft  tho  mind  rr»». 


§ 


■ 


mm 


I 


456 


LIFE  or  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


lar  occasion,  that  if  God  had  willed  to  draw  His  glory  from  the 
works,  be  would  have  preserved  thera* 

She  could  never  bear  to  see  a  Sister  lose  a  moment  of  time.    If 
one  came  from  a  duty  ouly  a  few  minutes  before  office,  she  ex- 
pected that  these  few  minutes  would  be  employed  in  something 
nseful,  as  reading  a  page  in  the  Testament  or  Imitation,  etc.    She 
would  often  quote  the  saying  of  St.  Paul  to  Timothy  :  "  Apply 
thyself  to  reading ;"    and  St.  Jerome's  advice  to  Euatochium : 
"  Let  sleep  surprise  you  with  a  book  in  your  hand,  and  let  the 
Holy  Scripture  receive  your  reclining  head."    With  her,  spiritual 
reading  was  "  oil  for  the  lamp  of  prayer,"  but  she  would  prefer 
any  kind  of  good  reading  to  idleness.    To  a  postulant  who  excused 
herself  for  loitering,  bv  saying  it  was  only  five  minutes  before  some 
exercise,  she  said :  "  Ah,  my  child,  many  a  fervent  prayer  was 
said  in  five  minutes.'*  .  ?^«_5.'s:  /^',........ 

The  special  devotions  pointed  oat  in  the  Rule  were  her  ^cial 
devotions.  Meditation  on  the  Tax  sion  was  her  favorite  exercise ; 
from  this  she  drew  strength  to  bear  her  Cross  with  joy.  Y/hon  a 
trial  came,  she  would  quietly  say:  "It  is  part  of  the  Cross  of 
Christ,  which  we  so  often  pray  may  be  always  about  us."  Her 
life,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  may  be  reverently  called  her 
"  Way  of  the  Cross."  She  made  a  regulation  that  meditation 
uiiould  be  made  on  the  Passion  every  day  in  Lent,  and  every  Fri- 
day through  the  year;  also,  that  prayers  should  be  said  in  honor  of 
the  Five  Wounds,  at  three  o'clock  every  Friday,  "  for  those  ia 
their  agony,  in  mortal  sin,  and  for  the  souls  in  purgatory."  Her 
heart,  so  tender  to  all,  was  not  less  tender  towards  her  suffering 
Spouse;  and  to  meditate  on  the  various  circumstances  of  His  do- 
lorous Passion  was  a  physical  pain  to  her,  as  she  once  told  a  Sister 
in  confidence.  "  For  us  He  suffered,"  she  would  say,  and  this,  she 
thought,  was  more  vhan  sufficient  to  move  all  to  gratitude  and 
love.  So  great  was  her  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  our  Lord, 
th'*  ihe  scarcely  ever  used  any  prayer-book  but  that  entitled 
"Devotions  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesua." 


*  "Son  grand  ouvrngo,lo  fruit  deqiiivtorzuftnu6esnvttit6t«S  bnllt!  i  PBris.  U 
■outieiit  colto  porto  tivoo  bonnooup  do  ouliiio,  ot  dit  sirapleiaetit :  '  81  Dieu  ovait 
voulu  tiror  Bii  gloiro  do  cet  ouvrage,  il  rBuriiit  ooiisorvi.'  "— Alalia)  tur  Ji.  !'• 
Jtan  Orou,  S.  J. 


■j-EY. 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINK  M^AULKY. 


457 


His  glory  from  the 

loment  of  time.  If 
jfore  office,  she  ex- 
loyed  in  something 
Imitation,  etc.  She 
i  Timothy  :  "  Apply 
ce  to  Enstochium : 
r  hand,  and  let  the 

With  her,  spiritual 
it  she  would  prefer 
>stnlant  livho  excused 
minutes  before  some 

fervent  prayer  was 

ule  were  her  special 
jr  favorite  exercise; 
with  joy.  Y/hon  a 
art  of  the  Cross  of 
ys  about  us."  Her 
reverently  called  her 
tion  that  meditation 
Lent,  and  every  Fri- 
Id  bo  said  in  honor  of 
piday,  "for  those  ia 
in  purgatory."  Her 
owards  ber  suffering 
imstanccs  of  His  do- 
she  once  told  a  Sister 
luld  say,  and  this,  she 
all  to  gratitude  and 
i  Heart  of  our  Lord, 
3k  but  that  entitled 


irnit  6t<S  bnlltS  k  Peris.  II 
ai>l8iD.ent:  'SlDieuovalt 
irv(5.'  "—MliM  tur  Ji-  i'. 


From  her  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Infancy  sprang  her  love  of 
little  children.  If  the  majesty  c'  God  inspires  our  admiration,  His 
littleness  in  the  crib  must  awaken  tenderest  love.  She  felt,  when 
meditating  on  these  endearing  mysteries  of  the  "  Word  made  flesh," 
and  beginning  to  "  dwell  amongst  us,"  as  did  St.  Bernard,  when 
glancing  from  the  Son  in  the  bosom  of  His  Father,  to  the  Son  in 
the  crib  ox  Bethlehem,  he  exclaimed,  "  O,  Jestis,  how  great  thou 
art,  and  how  adorable  I  O,  Jesus,  how  little  thou  art,  and  how 
amiable !" 

On  every  feast  she  was  sure  to  note  down  the  fruit  the  Church 
wishes  to  be  drawn  from  the  commemoration  of  the  saint  or  mys- 
tery ;  but  she  was  never  weary  of  extolling  her  who,  next  to  Jesus, 
is  the  most  perfect  model  of  every  virtue.  "All  religious  per- 
sons," she  would  say,  "  ought  to  make  known  her  virtuea  and 
power  wherever  they  have  influence  ;  but  we,  who  are  her  own 
chosen  children,  who  bear  hci-  name,  and  that  of  her  sweetest  at- 
tribute, Meboy,  tve  are  specially  bound  to  love  and  honor  her." 
She  appointed  the  Rosary  and  OfiSce  to  be  daily  recited  in  honor 
of  Mary,  and  Novenas  to  be  offered  with  much  solemnity  before 
her  feasts,  especially  the  Feast  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy. 

She  urged  the  Sisters  to  cultivate  among  the  poor  a  great  devo- 
tion to  the  Mother  of  God — a  devotion  which,  she  said,  would 
lead  them  back  to  Him,  even  if  they  should  have  the  misfortune  to 
wnnder  for  a  time.  Indeed,  she  was  often  touched  with  the  great 
devotion  the  poor  evinced  towards  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  The 
Son  and  the  Mother  are  never  separated  on  their  lips  ;  and  in  the 
south  and  west  of  Ireland  the  poor  peasant  or  laborer  frequently 
dies  murmuring,  in  his  expressive  Gaelic,  "  O,  Holy  Motherl" 

The  saints  to  whom  the  Rule  recommended  the  Sisters  to  bo 
devout  were  those  to  whom  she  was  most  devoted,  and  among 
them  St.  Joseph,  the  fostei^father  of  Jesus  and  spouse  of  Mary  ; 
St,  John  the  Evangelist,  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  and  the 
first  "  Child  of  Mary  ;"  and  St.  Patrick,  who  had  brought  the  faith 
to  her  itative  land,  and  changed  it  into  an  island  of  saints  and 
scholars,  were  her  special  favorites. 

In  choir,  reverence  and  love  were  depicted  on  her  countenance  : 
she  cliantod  the  Office  and  recited  the  prayers  in  a  tone  which 

20 


'1 


i 


IkfrJa 


458 


LIFE  OV  CATHEBINE  MCAULKT. 


showed  that  she  felt  what  she  uttered.  At  cererr,onies  she  80me- 
times  became  so  absorbed  that  she  forgot  the  exterior  observances 
prescribed.  This  at  length  became  so  fi-equeut  that  she  was 
obliged  to  request  some  of  the  Sisters  to  remind  her  of  her  duty 
on  such  occasions.  These  monitors,  who  were  sometimes  oppres. 
sively  importuaate,  she  would  playfully  style  her  "mistresses." 
Ceremony  days  were  delightful  to  her.  She  rejoiced  to  see  laborers 
enter  the  vineyard  at  any  hour.  Often  she  would  expatiate  on  the 
sacrifices  the  Sisters  bad  made  to  enter  religion,  and  her  affection, 
ate  heart  led  her  to  lay  particular  stress  on  that  entire  separation 
from  those  to  whom  they  were  bound  by  nature's  dearest  ties,  and 
whom  they  quitted,  not  because  the/  loved  Ihem  leas,  but  because 
they  loved  God  more.  She  used  to  say  tliat  nothing  but  a  spark 
of  the  fire  that  Jesus  came  to  cast  on  earth  could  enable  nature  to 
make  this  sacrifice. 

At  the  Renovation  her  fervor  seemed  to  reach  her  greatest 
height,  and  she  renewed  her  vows  in  a  tone  of  exultation  the 
hearers  could  not  easily  forget.  "It  is  no  wonder,"  she  would 
say,  "  that  our  voices  are  weak  and  timid  when  first  we  pronounce 
our  holy  vov/s,  for  then  we  are  only  beginning  to  know  the  God 
whom  we  are  privileged  to  serve  ;  but  at  Renovation  our  tone 
should  evince  joy  and  triumph,  for  then  we  know  better  what  He 
is  to  whom  we  have  the  honor  to  be  espoused."  When  writing 
about  the  time  of  renewal  (the  Feast  of  the  Circumcision),  she 
would  always  say  something  on  the  subject,  as,  "May  God  grant 
you,  and  us  all,  the  full  benefit  of  our  Renovation,  and  grace  to 
perform  our  resolutions." 

At  recreation  she  would  sometimes  lay  aside  her  sewing  or 
knitting,  and  gaze  upon  her  children,  while  her  countenance  beamed 
iritih  intense  delight,  as  she  thought  of  the  glory  given  to  God  by 
iuelr  labors  and  sacrifices.  Their  sorrows  were  her  sorrows— 
their  joys  her  joys,  ^''hen  possible,  she  perir>lttcd  them  to  under- 
take long  journeys,  for  the  cousolutlou  of  their  sick  and  dying 
relatives.  Thus  she  hastened  the  departure  of  the  Birmingham 
mission,  that  one  of  ilio  Sisters  who  composed  it  might  have  the 

comfort  of  tending  her  dying  father  ;  and  she  took  Sister  G • 

to  England,  to  cousolo  ucr  parents,  who  had  Just  met  with  sovore 


--H'  ■^■^.f  ■ 


iJtm^- 


—--*!!»!*'' 


9eMMWkai« 


lULKT. 

t  ceren^onies  she  some- 
lie  exterior  observances 
i-eqneut  that  she  was 
remind  her  of  her  duty 
vere  sometimes  oppres. 
yle  her  "mistresses." 
rejoiced  to  see  laborers 
ffonld  expatiate  on  the 
;ion,  and  her  afFection. 

that  entire  separation 
itnre's  dearest  ties,  and 
Ihemhaa,  but  because 
at  nothing  but  a  spark 

conld  enable  nature  to 

to  reach  her  greatest 
tone  of  exultation  the 
a  wonder,"  she  would 
fhen  first  we  pronounce 
ining  to  know  the  God 
;  Renovation  our  tone 
!  know  better  what  He 
juscd."  When  writing 
the  Circnmcision),  she 
t,  as,  "May  God  grant 
cnovation,  aud  grace  to 

y  aside  her  sewing  or 
her  countenance  beamed 
glory  given  to  God  by 
s  were  her  sorrows— 
erir'lttcd  them  to  under- 
f  their  sick  and  dying 
re  of  the  Birmingham 
posed  it  might  have  the 

she  took  Sister  G ■ 

lad  Just  met  with  sovore 


LIFE  OF  CATHKRmS  MCAULET. 


afflictions.  She  placed  such  unbounded  confidence  in  her  children, 
that  she  never  would  believe  anything  to  their  disadvantage.  Wheu 
informed  that  a  Superioress  had  made  arrangenv  ts  to  found  a 
House  without  her  consent,  she  wrote  to  her,  sayiu^- ,  "  I  have  been 
told  several  times  that  you  are  going  to  Liverpool ;  but  I  am  sure 
matters  are  not  closed  with  you,  or  you  would  let  me  know."  If 
love  begets  love,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  Sisters  loved' this  loving, 
confiding  mother. 

Prayer  seemed  to  be  the  life  of  Catherine  McAuley.  If  her 
duties  required  her  to  be  nearly  always  in  action,  every  action  of 
hers  was,  as  one  of  her  sisters  sweetly  said,*  "embalmed  with 
prayer."  If  they  left  her  little  time  to  kneel  in  clioir,  they  were 
animated  with  that  purity  of  intention  which  is  in  itself  a  perfect 
prayer.  She  wished  the  sisters  whether  sighing  for  heaven,  or 
sinking  under  affliction,  or  thirsting  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  to 
seek  their  strength  and  consolation  in  prayer.  The  happincsft  of 
pleasing  God  was  the  greatest  reward  she  looked  for.  Heuce  she 
directed  the  sifters  to  say  often  :  "  O,  most  compassionate  Lord 
Jesus,  grant  me  grace  to  be  perfectly  pleasing  to  thee,  even  for 
one  moment  1"  She  often  told  them  to  have  real  faith  in  the 
divine  promise,  "  Ask  and  you  shall  receive."  The  following  pas- 
sage contains  so  many  of  her  ideas,  though  it  is  probable  that  she 
never  read  a  page  of  De  Lamcnnais,  that  it  may  with  propriety  bo 
inserted  here  : 

"  When  you  pray,  do  you  not  feel  your  heart  lighter  and  your 
soul  more  content  ?  Prayer  renders  affliction  less  painful,  aud  joy 
more  pure  ;  it  gives  to  the  one  something  ineflfably  sweet,  to  the 
other  a  celestial  perfume. 

"  You  arc  a  stranger  seeking  your  country  ;  your  country  is 
heaven,  and  when  you  look  towards  heaven,  does  no  desure  press 
you,  or  is  that  desire  mute  ? 

"  You  say  God  is  too  high  to  hear  such  poor,  mean  creatures 
as  we.  And  who,  then,  made  those  mean  creatures  ?  Who  but 
God  gave  them  feelings,  and  thought,  and  speech  ?  And  if  he  has 
been  so  good  to  them,  was  it  that  he  might  afterwards  drive  them 

•  M,  M.  Dl  I'uMl  Dolftiiy,  one  of  "  tUo  flmt  sevcin,"  In  a  privHte  l«ttor. 


■  if, 


■■  'n>i<<wijyiiMp>jf<pv.  t.>Bitf- 


460 


LIFE  OF  CATHERINE  MCAULEY. 


from  him  7  Yerilj.  I  tell  yon,  that  whoever  says  in  his  heart  that 
God  despises  his  own  creatnres,  blasphemes  God. 

"  Others  say,  Does  not  God  know  our  wants  better  than  we? 
What  good,  then,  is  it  to  pray  ?  God  knows  our  wants,  and  it  is 
for  that  reason  be  wishes  ns  to  speak  to  him,  for  God  himself  is 
our  first  want,  and  to  pray  to  God  is  to  begin  to  possess  God. 
The  father  knows  the  wants  of  his  child ;  is  the  child,  therefore,  to 
address  no  word  of  petition  or  gratitude  to  his  father  ? 

"  When  animals  suffer,  or  fear,  or  are  hungry,  they  ntter  plain- 
tire  cries,  which  are  the  prayers  they  address  to  God,  and  God 
hears  them.  Shall  man  be  the  only  creature  whose  voice  never 
ascends  to  the  ear  of  his  Creator  ? 

"  There  sometimes  passes  over  countries  a  scorching  wind  which 
dries  np  plants  and  flowers  ;  but,  moistened  by  the  dew,  they  re- 
cover their  beauty  and  raise  their  languishing  heads.  Burning  and 
scorching  winds  are  always  passing  crver  the  soul  of  man ;  prayer 
is  the  dew  which  refreshes  it." 

But  our  task  draws  to  a  close.  Perfection  was  the  bright  goal 
to  which  Lh  i  Foundress  tended,  and  hence  we  find  her  possessed  of 
"  such  noble  self-command,  so  crucified  in  the  flesh,  so  meek,  so 
gentle,  so  tender-hearted,  so  merciful,  so  sweet,  so  prayerful,  so 
diligent,  so  forgetful  of  injuries,"*  that  we  involuutarilly  exclaLn : 
"  The  finger  of  God  is  here." 

That  Mother  McAuluy  was  a  woman  of  eminent  literary  ability, 
her  letters  mid  ascetic  writings  remain  to  prove.  The  former  ex- 
hibit great  versatility.  She  describes  spirituality  like  a  divine, 
she  sketches  house-plans  like  an  architect  ;  she  gives  the  diagnosis 
of  disease  in  a  manner  that  would  not  disgrace  her  distinguished 
medical  friends.  Sir  Philip  Crampton  and  Sir  Henry  Marsh  ;  she 
reads  countenances  like  a  professed  physiognomist ;  she  describes 
joy  and  sorrow  with  the  imagery  of  a  poet  ;  and  though  her  ten- 
der, humorous,  racy  epistles  were,  as  the  writing  shows,  dashed  off 
with  extrao-rdinary  speed,  there  is  not  in  them  a  single  line  that 
could  disedify,  and  liardly  a  superfluous  word.  Evidently,  had  her 
talents  been  thoroughly  cultivated,  had  she  been  trained  exclu- 


♦  Dr.  Nowman. 


/LULEY. 

ir  says  ia  bis  heart  that 

God. 

wants  better  than  we? 
)ws  our  wants,  and  it  is 
him,  for  God  himself  is 

begin  to  possess  God. 
I  the  child,  therefore,  to 
his  father  ? 

nngry,  they  utter  plain- 
Iress  to  God,  and  God 
tore  whose  voice  never 

a  scorching  wind  which 
ed  by  the  dew,  they  re- 
ng  heads.  Borning  and 
he  soul  of  man  ;  prayer 

ion  was  the  bright  goal 
we  find  her  possessed  of 
I  the  flesh,  so  meek,  so 
sweet,  so  prayerful,  so 
5  involuutarilly  exclaim : 

'  eminent  literary  ability, 
prove.  The  former  ex- 
)irituality  like  a  divine, 
;  she  gives  the  diagnosis 
sgrace  her  distinguished 
Sir  Henry  Marsh  ;  she 
ognomist ;  she  describes 
et ;  and  though  her  ten- 
writing  shows,  dashed  off 
them  a  single  line  that 
3rd.  Evidently,  had  her 
she  been  trained  excla- 


LIPE  OF  CATHEBIKB  VPAJTUSY. 


461 


givety  to  literary  pursuits,  no  woman  of  her  age,  and  few  men, 
could  have  attained  greater  eminence  in  the  republic  of  letters. 
Happily,  she  was  zealons  for  better  gifts,  and  if  she  were  bom  to 
a  throne,  she  had  taken  off  her  crown  and  laid  aside  her  sceptre, 
for  the  honor  and  happiness  of  serving  Jesus  Christ  in  His  suffer- 
ing members. 

We  have  failed  to  portray  Catherine  McAuley  aright,  if  the 
reader  do  not  discern  in  her,  the  spurit  of  tenderness  for  the  affict- 
ed,  of  compassion  for  the  erring,  of  zeal  for  those  who"  need  a  physi- 
cian, of  anxiety  to  serve  not  merely  the  just  but  sinners — the  Spkit 
of  Mercy  which  is  pre-eminently  the  Spirit  of  Jesus.  And  may  He, 
whose  mercy  is  above  all  His  works,  increase  in  His  servants  the 
the  spirit  which  animated  the  pure  heart  of  the  saintly  Foundress  ; 
that  spirit  of  love  and  compassion,  which,  far  more  than  the  most 
persuasive  words  of  humac  'oquence,  keeps  the  just  with  Jesus, 
and  leads  the  sinner  weeping  vo  His  fpci  ;  that  spirit  which  is  a 
surer  test  of  His  presence  than  the  gift  of  miracles  ;  that  spuit 
which  teaches  us  to  weep  with  those  who  weep  and  rejoice  with 
those  who  rejoice,  that  by  becoming  all  things  to  all,  we  may  gain 
all  to  Christ. 

It  was  said  of  Mother  McAuley,  in  her  lifetime,  that  every  one 
who  approached  her  carried  away  some  of  her  contagions  sweet- 
ness, and  felt  a  new  degree  of  love  for  Him  whose  Spirit  her  whole 
exterior  so  beautifully  portrayed.  Bisliops,  priests,  millionaires, 
came  into  her  presence  without  any  distinct  projects  of  charity, 
and  left  it,  after  a  few  minutes'  interview,  to  erect  convents,  hos- 
pitals, and  schools,  and  to  increase  their  customary  alms.  May 
God  give  this  blessing  to  our  work,  that  all  who  commune  with 
the  Servant  of  God  through  these  pages,  may  experience  the  «ame 
blessed  results. 


MOTHER  M.  ELIZABETH  MOORE'S  ACCOUNT  OP  THE  DEATH 
OF  THE  fOUNDKESS. 

"  Of  cur  dear  Reverend  Mother,  what  shall  I  say,  but  that  she 
died  the  death  of  the  just  ?  Cautions  as  she  was  of  bringing  her- 
self into  notice  while  in  health,  she  was  still  more  so  in  sickness, 


~«;wi».<a«li>Bimil«p«jig«.»ii<IW»l»yt<»IWIWf-t'j''>i'liW..-  ■ 


LITE  OF  CATHEBIKB  MOAULIT. 


toaiting  on  herself  even  in  her  last  agony,  and  prepervinp;  to  the 
end  the  peace  and  serenity  which  so  eminently  distingai&hed  her 
through  life.  She  omitted  not  an  iota  of  what  was  essential  but  she 
disregarded  all  else. 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  her  death  was  so  near.  I  wait  full  of 
hope  till  the  day  before  she  died.  Had  I  then  known  what  I 
hare  since  heard,  I  should  not  hare  been  so  unprepared  for  the 
shock. 

"  For  the  last  six  months,  she  was  well  aware  that  she  was 
dying,  but  was  perfectly  silent  on  the  sabject.  About  a  month 
ago,  she  arranged  all  her  papers,  and  said  to  Sister  Teresa  Carton, 
'  Nov,  they  are  ready.'  About  four  on  Thursday  mornings  she 
desired  her  bed  to  be  removed  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  saying 
that  she  would  soon  want  air.  About  seven,  she  desired  the 
Sisters  to  be  brought  to  her,  and  said  to  each  individually  what 
was  best  suited  ;  but  her  first  and  last  injunction  to  all  was  to  pre- 
serve peace  and  onion  ;  and,  if  they  did,  she  promised  them  in  re- 
turn a  happiness  that  would  be  ever  a  new  surprise  to  them.  She 
told  Sister  M.  Genevieve  that  she  felt  exceedingly  happy,  as  if  to 
encourage  her  to  die.  To  little  Sister  Camillas,  her  god-child,  she 
said,  '  Kiss  me,  my  heart,  and  then  go  away ;'  thus  she  sought  to 
prevent  her  from  weeping.  The  Holy  Sacrifice  was  offered  in  her 
ro^'m  about  half-past  eight.  She  said  it  would  be  a  comfort  to  her 
to  see  the  white  cloaks  on  the  Sisters  once  more,  for  she  had  been 
anointed  on  Monday  without  the  usual  ceremony — more  to  hasten 
her  recovery  than  because  we  thought  her  in  danger.  I  think  her 
agony  commenced  about  eleven.  She  spoke  very  little.  Dean 
Qaffney,  her  brother,  Dr.  McAuley,  Dean  Mcyler,  Eev.  Messrs. 
O'Carroll,  O'Hanlon,  and  Walsh,  visited  her  during  the  day.  To 
the  physician  she  said,  '  Well,  doctor,  the  scene  is  drawing  to  a 
close.' 

"  About  five  in  the  evening,  she  asked  to  have  the  blei?8f,d  caudle 
in  her  hand.  We  then  commenced  the  last  prayers.  I  repeated 
one  or  two  she  herself  had  taught  -ine,  and  she  said,  with  energy, 
*  may  God  bless  you.'  When  we  thought  licr  senses  were  failing, 
and  that  it  might  be  well  to  rouse  her  attention  by  praying  a  little 
louder,  she  said,  '  No  occasion  to  speak  so  loud,  my  darling ;  I 


''■'^•iMMniw*'*"^ 


LEY. 

id  preferring  to  the 

y  distinguished  her 

ras  essential  but  she 

near.  I  wm  full  of 
hen  known  what  I 
unprepared  for  the 


LITE  OF  CATHEBINE  MCAULET. 


463 


iware  that  she  was 
;.    About  a  month 
ister  Teresa  Carton, 
irsday  mornings  she 
of  the  room,  sajing 
n,  she  desired  the 
h  individually  what 
>n  to  all  was  to  pre- 
romised  them  in  re- 
irise  to  them.    She 
igly  happy,  as  if  to 
I,  her  god-child,  she 
thus  she  sought  to 
5  was  offered  in  her 
be  a  comfort  to  her 
9,  for  she  had  been 
ly — more  to  hasten 
inger.    I  think  her 
very  little.    Dean 
eyier,  Rev.  Messrs. 
aring  the  day.    To 
e  is  drawing  to  a 

( the  blcL'Sf.d  caudle 
ayers.  I  repeated 
said,  with  energy, 
enscs  were  failing, 
by  praying  a  little 
ad,  my  darling  ;  I 


hear  distinctly.    At  a  few  minutes  to  eight  she  calmly  breathed 

her  last.    I  did  not  think  it  was  possible  for  human  nature  to  have 

such  self-possession  at  the  awibi  moment  of  death. 

"Coimin'  or  Merct,  St.  Cathekink's,  BAoaoT-sTBxrr, 

"  2fdvmbtr  li,  lUV  .  Ji.tv  ;         ;  ■* 


PRATER  FOR  THE  ORDER  OP  MERCT. 

0  God  1  who,  under  the  protection  of  the  glorious  Mother  of 
Thy  Son,  wast  pleased  that  the  Order  of  Mercy  should  be  in- 
stituted in  Thy  Church,  for  the  relief  of  the  sufft  ring  and  the  in- 
struction of  the  ignorant ;  vouchsafe  so  to  strengthen  and  enlighten 
those  to  whom  Thou  hast  granted  this  holy  vocation,  that  they 
may  faithfully  and  efficaciously  dispense  Thy  mercies  on  earth,  and 
thereby  come  to  the  enjoyment  of  Thy  divine  presence  in  heaven, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.    Amen. 


The  following  simple,  touching  account  of  the  Foundress  is  from 
the  pen  of  a  spiritual  daughter,*  who  has  lately  gone  to  join  the 
"  Community  in  heaven  :"  ' 

"  The  conventual  life  of  Catherine  McAuley  was  brief  indeed, 
but  replete  with  good  works,  meekly,  silently,  and  lovingly  done. 
She  was  ever  ready  to  undertake  whatever  was  pointed  out  to  her  by 
legitimate  authority  to  be  the  holy  will  of  God.  She  kept  her  eye 
steadily  fixed  on  that  blessed  will,  with  un^tbrinking  faith,  certain 
that  by  its  guidance  her  little  bark  and  all  it  contained  would  be 
safely  led  through  rocks,  and  breakers,  and  s'orms.  Sometimes, 
like  St.  Peter,  when  the  waves  were  very  high,  her  poor  heart 
feared,  and  then,  like  him,  she  called  on  our  deaiest  Lord,  who  never 
failed  to  con^e  to  her  assistance  and  rescu.^  her  from  the  impending 
danger. 

"  Her  humility  was  equal  to  her  filial  confid  a^-e  and  child-like 
simplicity.  Never  could  she  bear  to  receive  a  word  <^f  praise,  or 
to  hear  the  merit  of  the  good  works  she  performed  ascribed  to 

•  Mother  Mary  V.  Hartnett,  Bogoommon. 


«1W 


464 


LIFE  OF  CATHEBINB  MOAULET. 


her  ;  and  so  mnch  did  she  dread  the  danger  of  egotism,  that  she 
would  not  speak  even  in  her  own  dispraise.  When  people,  sur- 
prised at  what  they  saw,  sometimes  commended  her,  she  would 
gently  turn  the  conversation,  or  playfully  reply  that  '  every  thing 
went  on  of  itself,  like  a  piece  of  machinery.' 

"  Among  her  great  Turtnes,  perfect  detachment  and  love  of  holy 
poverty  shone  conspicuously  ;  but,  above  all,  her  charity  was 
transcendant.  The  pure  love  of  God  was  her  one  motive,  and  for 
His  dear  sake,  she  loved  her  neighbor,  His  image.  She  was  never 
weary  of  dilating  on  the  description  of  charity  given  by  the  Apos- 
tle, and,  with  almost  inspired  eloquence,  inculcating  it  on  her  spir- 
itual family.  For  several  years  she  had  no  other  rule  by  which  to 
guide  her  rapidly-increasing  community,  but  the  single  chapter  on 
Union  and  Charity  ;  and  so  great  a  blessing  did  God  give  her  les- 
sons, and  so  deep  and  lasting  an  effect  did  they  produce,  that  she 
used  to  say  the  Sisters'  only  boast  was,  that  there  never  had  been 
a  breach  of  charity  committed  among  them.  Almighty  God  raised 
the  supernatural  edifice  of  her  perfection  on  the  gifts  of  nature 
with  which  He  had  previously  endowed  her.  He  gave  her  great 
benevolence  and  kindliness  of  disposition,  which  made  her  feelingly 
alive  to  the  wants  of  her  fellow-creatures,  and  ever  solicitous  to  re- 
lieve them.  Her  sweetness  of  disposition  endeared  her  to  all  who 
knew  her,  while  her  great  uprightness  and  high  moral  character 
made  her  respected  no  less  than  loved.  Her  Heavenly  Father 
chastened  her  with  many  trials,  both  before  and  after  calling  her 
to  establish  the  Order  of  Mercy.  Her  whole  life  was  chequered 
with  afflictions.  Some  came  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things ; 
others,  and  the  most  painful  ones,  came  through  the  instrumentality 
of  good  and  saintly  persons  ;  but  never  did  a  word  of  murmur  es- 
cape her  lips,  which  were  always  sealed  with  conformity  to  the 
adorable  will  of  God." 


*  Since  the  abo^e  was  written,  we  learned  that  .a  pamphlet  sketch  of  the  Foun- 
dress has  been  published  by  a  Jesuit  'n  Dublin,  of  whose  name  we  have  not  been 
informed.  We  have  not  yet  seen  the  sketch,  but  if  it  contain  anything  new,  we 
shall,  with  the  permission  of  the  Rev.  author,  avail  ourselves  of  it  in  our  next 
edition. 


JLET. 


of  egotism,  that  she 

When  people,  su^ 

mded  her,  she  would 

iply  that  '  every  thing 

nent  and  love  of  holy 
all,  her  charity  was 
er  one  motive,  and  for 
nage.    She  was  never 
ty  given  by  the  Apos- 
nlcating  it  on  her  spir- 
)ther  rule  by  vi'hich  to 
the  single  chapter  on 
did  God  give  her  les- 
they  produce,  that  she 
,  there  never  had  been 
Ahnighty  God  raised 
jn  the  gifts  of  nature 
'.    He  gave  her  great 
hich  made  her  feelingly 
nd  ever  solicitous  to  re- 
mdeared  her  to  all  who 
[  high  moral  character 
Her  Heavenly  Father 
3  and  after  calling  her 
hole  life  was  chequered 
nary  course  of  things ; 
jugh  the  instrumentality 
I  a  word  of  murmnr  es- 
with  conformity  to  the 


amphlet  sketch  of  tbe  Foun- 
bote  name  we  have  not  been 
,f  it  contain  anything  new,  we 
I  ourselvea  of  it  in  ovir  next 


CHAPTER    XL! V. 

Baggot-street  Conyent— St.  Paul's  Hospital,  Jerris-street— The  Mater  Misori 
cordial — The  Female  Reformatory. 

TUE  following  extract,  from  a  work*  recently  published  by  an 
English  lady,  will  be  read  witk  interest  by  many  : 

"  The  Convent  in  Bnggot-street  is  an  extensive  building  with  a 
very  plain  exterior.  Within,  much  pains  have  been  spent  on  dec- 
orations of  a  strictly  conventual  character.  The  cloisters  and 
Convent  Chapel  are  beautiful ;  there  are  immense  poor-schools  in 
tbe  rear  of  the  building,  a  large  House  of  Mercy,  and  an  institu. 
tion  for  training  teachers.  The  three  main  objects  for  which  Miss 
McAuley  designed  her  Order,  were,  the  care  of  poor  schools,  the 
visitation  of  the  sick-poor,  and  the  charge  of  a  House  of  Mercy ; 
and  to  these  three  works  the  Sisters  are  bound  by  rule  to  attend, 
as  far  as  may  be  practicable. 

The  House  of  Mercy  is  meant  as  a  temporary  refuge  for  re- 
spectable girls  and  women  out  of  employment.  It  is  chiefly  filled 
by  servants  out  of  place,  and  has  often  proved  a  most  valuable 
place  of  refuge  for  those  in  danger.  The  inmates  are  taught  to 
labor  for  their  own  support,  either  at  needle  or  laundry  work,  and 
the  Sisters  endeavor  to  procure  them  situations.  It  is  not  intended 
that  they  should  remain  any  length  of  time  in  the  House,  but  only 
till  they  can  find  employment.  In  addition  to  these  three  works 
of  charity,  the  Sisters  may  undertake  any  others,  eithar  under 
their  own  roof  or  in  branch  houses.  The  Sisters  of  Mercy  in 
Dublin  being  the  largest  and  most  important  establishment  of  the 
Order,  have  five  branch  houses,  the  three  principal  of  which  I 
visited,  and  will  now  speak  of. 

*  The  W9rk  U  entitloa,  ••  Irish  Homes  and  Irish  Hearts.'' 


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LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAtTLBT. 


"  The  Charitable  Infirmart,  Jervis-street,  is  one  of  the  oldest 
hospitnls  ill  Dublin.     It  was  founded  in  1728,  by  a  small  band  of 

mediciil  men In  1792,  a  chapter  was  granted  by 

Goveniiuent,  and  the  managers  were  incorporated  as  the  '  Guard- 
ians and  Governors  of  the  Charitable  Infirmary,  Jervis-street.' 
Upon  the  present  Board  there  are  no  medical  men.  The  building 
has  a  plain  brick  exterior.  It  contains  a  reception-room,  board- 
room, lecture-room,  and  six  wards,  capable  of  containing  seventy 
patients.  Tiiis  hospital  was  formei  ly  served  by  the  usual  class  of 
,  hospital  nurses,  under  charge  of  a  matron.  The  medical  men  were 
by  no  means  satisfied  witli  their  mode  of  service.  The  patients 
were  neglected,  llie  hospital  >va8  extremely  dirty,  and  it  was  re- 
solved that  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  should  be  asked  to  undertake  the 
nursing ;  and  the  request  was  made  and  granted.  A  certain 
number  of  Sisters  were  sent  from  the  Convent  in  Baggot-strect,  a 
few  small  and  inconvenient  rooms,  but  well  separated  from  the  rest 
uf 'the  hospital,  were  allotted  them,  and  the  Sisters  began  their 
work.  In  a  very  short  time  cleanliness  and  order  reigned  through- 
out the  place — the  patients  were  made  comfortable,  and  the  doc- 
tors found  that  their  orders  were  carried  out.  Stimulants  now 
went  down  the  patients'  throats,  instead  uf  those  of  their  nurses, 
and  all  that  careful  nursing  could  do  to  alleviate  suffering  was 
performed.  The  Sisters  are  able  to  do  much  for  the  souls  of  their 
patients,  taking  care  to  instruct  the  ignorant — to  teach  al<.  to  suf- 
fer patiently,  and  to  turn  their  thoughts  to  the  God  they  forgot  in 
their  time  of  health.  More  than  once  a  wedding  has  taken  place 
in  the  little  chapel,  between  those  whom  sickness  hdd  led  to  repent 
of  thc!  past,  and  desire  to  lead  a  Christian  life  for  the  future. 

"  The  second  branch  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  is  at  the  Mater 
Misi!:ricordi.,k  Hospital,  the  chief  Catholic  Hospital  in  Dublin,  and 
one  which  bids  fair  to  become  equal  in  importance  to  any  in  Eu- 
rope. The  idea  of  its  creation  originated  with  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy,  who,  not  content  with  being  ready  to  devote  their  labor, 
contributed  ten  thousand  pounds  towards  its  expenses.  In  Dr. 
Bristowe's  '  Report  to  Government  on  the  Hospitals  of  the  United 
Kingdom,'  the  following  occurs  : 

'"The  Mator  Misericordias  Hospital,  founded  in  1861  by  the 


■.•T7i:5 


^ 


ne  of  the  oldest 

a  small  band  of 

was  granted  by 

as  the  '  Guard- 

Jervis-street.' 

The  building 

tion-room,  board- 

utainiug  seventy 

le  usual  class  of 

nedicttl  men  were 

e.    The  patients 

and  it  was  re- 

to  undertake  the 

ated.     A  certain 

Bttggot-strect,  a 

atcd  from  the  rest 

iters  began  their 

:  reigned  through- 

ible,  and  the  doc- 

Stimalunts  now 

se  of  their  nnrseSi 

ate  saffering  was 

the  souls  of  their 

0  teach  all  to  suf- 

(od  they  forgot  in 

f  has  taken  place 

hr.d  led  to  repent 

r  the  future. 

f  is  at  the  Mater 

tal  in  Dublin,  and 

ice  to  any  in  Eu- 

h  the  Sisters  of 

iTote  their  labor, 

ixpenscs.    In  Dr. 

tals  of  the  United 

i  in  1861  by  the 


LIFE  Of   CATHERINE  MOAULBT. 


'■um>' 


467 


Sisters  of  Mercy,  end  as  yet  Incomplete,  lies  to  the  north  of  Dub- 
lin, on  the  confines  of  the  town  ;  it  occupies  an  elevated  site,  and 
is  surrounded  by  large  open  spaces.  On  the  score  of  salubrity  the 
site  seems  wholly  unobjectionable.  The  hospital  when  complete 
will  form  a  quadrangular  building,  and  will  hold,  we  believe,  about 
five  hundred  beds.  At  present,  the  antcricir  portion  only  is  in 
existence.  This  U  a  handsome,  symmetrical,  three-fioored  build- 
ing, presenting  on  each  floor  a  corridor  at  the  back,  extending  from 
end  to  end,  with  wards  and  other  rooms  opening  out  of  in  front, 
and  with  stair-case,  operating-rooms  and  ofiices,  (forming  a  com- 
pact block,)  extending  irom  its  central  part  backwards.  The  hos- 
pital is  kept  scrupulously  clean,  and  its  ventilation,  and,  indeed,  all 
its  internal  arrangements  are  admirable.  Patients  are  admitted 
without  any  recommendation  other  than  the  fitness  of  the  c^se  for 
admission. 

" '  This  hospital  promises  to  be,  when  complete,  one  of  the  finest 
in  Europe.  It  is  built  on  the  corridor  plan  ;  but  the  distribution 
of  corridors  and  wards  and  beds,  is  such  as  entirely  to  neutralize 
any  'll-eflects  that  could  possibly  flow  from  the  adoption  of  this 
plan,  while  all  the  advantages  that  spacious,  cheerful,  well-ventila- 
ted corridors  afford  are  thoroughly  secured.' 

"During  the  year  1866,  eleven  hundred  patients  passed 
through  the  wards  of  this  hospital,  and  three  thousand  four 
hundred  and  ninety-one  were  treated  as  out-patients.  In  the  au- 
tumn of  that  same  year,  Dublin  was  visited  by  the  terrible  scourge 
of  cholera.  The  hospital  instantly  opened  its  doors  to  the  victims, 
a  certain  number  of  wards  were  set  apart  for  them,  and  two  hun- 
dred and  six  patients  were  received  and  well-cared  for.  At  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night  the  Sisters  and  the  medical  men  were 
ready  to  take  them  in,  and  the  tenderest  and  most  vigilant  care 
wos  bestowed  on  them.  It  fell  to  the  task  of  one  Sister  to  com- 
pose the  limbs  and  shroud  the  bodies  of  more  than  one  hundred 
victims  of  this  terrible  disease. 

"  In  common  with  the  other  hospitals,  of  which  I  have  been 
writing,  immense  spiritual  good  is  wrought  within  these  walls. 
Kind  and  gentle  words  make  a  great  impression  on  the  careless  ; 
the  example  of  self-devotion  they  see  before  their  eyes  tends  to 


mm^ 


i-iff«arriiiniiiiii 


468 


LIFE  OF   CATHEBINB  UOAULET. 


strengthen  it.  If  they  mnrmnr  under  their  poverty  and  sickness, 
they  see  those  born  to  comfort  and  luxury  giving  up  all — impri? 
oning  themselves  within  hospital  walls — to  wait  on  them  ;  and  ad- 
vice from  such  a  quarter  is  more  appreciated.  No  distinction  of 
craed  is  made  in  this  hospital.  Protebtants  &:?  as  tenderly  cot-^d 
for  as  the  rest,  and  freely  allowed  any  ministration  of  their 
religion. 

"'Whether  the  postnlaut  be  Catholic  or  Protestant,  Moham- 
medan or  Jew,  he  is  GodV  work,  made  in  His  image  ;  and  the 
gate  freely  opens  to  him,  without  a  question  as  to  his  religious 
faith.  He  is  not  asked  to  violate  his  conscience  that  he  may  re- 
ceive relief.  He  is  not  required  to  purchase  his  life  at  the  price  of 
his  apostacy.  The  name  of  charity  is  not  desecrated  by  associa- 
tion with  sectarian  intolerance.  It  is  not  made  a  bait  to  corrnpt, 
or  a  sword  to  persecute,  wretches  broken  down  by  disease  to  inca- 
pacity of  resistance,  and  powerless  tn  help  themselves.' —  Speech  of 
Right  Honorable  Judge  CHagan. 

"This  is  a  pleasing  contrast  to  another  hospital  which,  though 
standing  in  a  Catholic  country  hke  Ireland,  denies  admission  to  any 
priest  within  its  walls,  even  to  visit  the  dying,  and  has  more  than 
once  turned  out  a  patient  in  his  last  extremity  because  he  would 
not  consent  to  die  witht^ut  the  consolations  of  his  faith.  In  a  city 
where  such  fearful  bigotry  can  exist,  an  hospital  like  the  Mater 
Misericordiffi  is  doubly  needed.  The  hospital  has  no  grant  from 
the  State  or  permanent  income  from  any  other  source  .... 
During  the  past  year  a  sura  of  £3,818  was  voluntarily  bestowed, 
and  every  shilling  received  has  gone  directly  to  the  relief  of  the 
patients.  The  Sisters  of  Mercy  are  no  charge  whatever  on  the 
Mater  Misericordiee  Hospital — being  supported  out  of  the  funds 
of  their  own  community. 

"  The  Mater  Misoricordiae  has  been  founded  upon  the  medioevol 
system.  It  is  the  property  of  a  religious  o-'der,  which  alone  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  management,  and  to  whom  alms  for  its  support 
are  committed.  In  modern  times  hospitals  have  fallen  under  the 
management  of  '  committees '  and  '  boards  of  directors '  or  '  gov- 
ernors.' The  Sisters  of  Mercy,  feeling  the  n.ut,'nitudo  and  import- 
ance of  their  undertaking,  and  considering  the  large  som  of  public 


uas 


asf'^ 


■e^ 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MCAULET. 


469 


rty  and  Bickness, 

up  all — impii." 

Ill  them  ;  and  ad- 

0  distiuction  of 
as  tenderly  co''€d 
stration  of   their 

otestant,  Molmm- 
image  ;  and  the 
s  to  bis  religious 
I  that  he  may  re- 
ife  at  the  price  of 
crated  bj  associa- 
a  bait  to  corrupt, 
by  disease  to  inca- 
selves.' —  Sjpeech  of 

ital  which,  though 
es  admission  to  any 
md  has  more  than 
r  because  he  would 
is  faith.  In  a  city 
;al  like  the  Mater 
las  no  grant  from 
source  .... 
luntarily  bestowed, 
;o  the  relief  of  the 
I  whatever  on  the 
out  of  the  fundfl 

upon  the  raediceval 
,  which  alone  is  re- 
ms  for  its  support 
e  fallen  under  the 
lirectors'  or  'gov- 
,'nitudo  and  import- 
large  sam  of  public 


money  committed  to  their  keeping,  have  resolved  to  amalgamate 
the  two  systems.  They  have,  therefore,  called  to  their  aid  a  com- 
mittee, or  '  council,'  of  the  leading  gentlemen  of  Dublin,  to  whom 
the  accounts  of  the  hospital  are  tlirown  open,  and  whose  advice 
and  cooperation  are  gratefully  received.  It  is  from  their  first  An- 
nual Report  that  the  above  quotations  are  taken,  and  the  Council 
further  adds : 

•"'  '"Annexed  to  this  report  is  a  statement  of  the  receipts  and  ex- 
penditures for  the  past  twelve  months.  We  cannot  conclude  with- 
out expressing  our  admiration  of  the  good  order  and  cleanliness 
of  the  hospital.  The  admirable  manner  in  which  it  is  kept,  and 
the  clear  and  accurate  system  of  accounts  have  given  us  the  great- 
est satisfaction,  and  reflect  the  highest  credit  on  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy.' 

"  When  we  reflect  that  so  lorge  a  portion  of  the  funds  was  con- 
tributed by  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  themselves,  and  that  the  expenses 
even  of  their  own  support  are  not  charged  upon  the  funds,  «re 
must  confess  ♦hat  this  challenge  of  public  inspection  and  criti- 
cism is  the  very  opposite  of  that  narrowness  of  spirit  with  which 
Religious  are  often,  and  unjustly,  accused.  Speaking  of  this  hos- 
pital. Judge  O'Hagau  adds : 

" '  The  contribution  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  was  very  great  in- 
deed. And  this  they  offered  that  they  might  open  for  themselves 
a  new  field  of  labor — made  terril'ie  by  mephitic  vapors  and  the 
groans  of  tortured  men — and  bringing  them  into  fearful  contpct 
with  pestilence  and  death.  And,  since  the  hospital  was  estab- 
lished, they  have  been  its  only  nurses.  They  have  ministered, 
with  their  own  hands,  to  its  suffering  inmates — repelled  by  no 
form  of  disease,  however  loathsome,  and  declining  no  office, 
however  mean,  so  that  they  mitigate  a  pang,  or  ppeed  a  soul 
more  peacefully  to  heaven  1  And  all  this  they  have  done  gra- 
tuitously, not  merely  receiving  no  stipend  for  their  service,  but 
maintaining  themselves  from  their  own  resources,  and  not  taxing 
even  for  their  food,  the  funds  of  the  hospital  in  which  they  toil 
unceasingly,  to  the  extent  of  a  single  farthing.  Surely,  this  in 
admirftble,  and  not  less  admirable,  too,  the  rule  by  which  they  opea 
their  doors,  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances,  to  every  ha- 


]jgiTr|mmi; 


470 


LIFE  OP  CATHBBINB  MOAULEY. 


man  being  who  needs  their  Iielp,  withont  let  or  hindrance.  Suffer- 
ing is  the  sole  condition  of  its  own  relief.  It  requires  no  passport 
from  wealth  or  rank.  It  is  subjected  to  no  cold  and  jealous  scru- 
tiny. There  is  no  fear  that  a  human  being  will  perish  at  the  door, 
while  those  within  deliberate  on  the  propriety  of  his  admission.' 

"The  Cardinal  Archbishop,  speaking  of  the  Mater  Miseri- 
cordiae,  said :  '  I  recollect  that  when  it  was  proposed  to  com- 
mence this  hospital  there  was  a  difference  of  opinion  about  the 
merits  of  the  plan,  according  to  which  it  is  now  partially  erected. 
Some  said  that  the  proposed  building  would  be  too  expensive,  that 
it  would  be  too  grand  for  the  poor,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to 
erect  an  humble  and  less  ornamental  structnre  which  would  be 
more  in  harmony  with  the  miserable  normal  condition  of  our  poor. 
Having  been  consulted  on  the  question,  I  declared  in  favor  of  the 
present  plan.  We  have  palaces  for  guilt,  we  have  palaces  for 
force — we  have  palaces  for  legalized  want,  in  which  what  is  called 
pauperism  is  dealt  with  according  to  the  principles  of  an  unfeeling 
political  economy.  Why,  then,  should  we  not  have  at  least  one 
palace  for  the  poor,  in  which  poverty  would  be  relieved  in  a  true 
spirit  of  charity,  and  according  to  the  dictates  of  the  Qospel? 
Such  palaces  are  met  with  under  the  name  of  Alberghi,  or  Aspizi 
de  Poveri,  in  Naples  and  Genoa,  Rome  and  Paris.  Why  should 
not  Dublin  show  its  respect  for  true  poverty  by  imitating  the  good 
example  given  by  other  cities?  The  Sisters  of  Mercy,  acting 
according  to  the  spirit  of  their  Institute,  determined  to  adopt  the 
plan  best  calculated  to  elevate  and  ennoble  poverty,  and  they 
have  been  most  successful  in  erecting  an  ho.<3pital  which  does  credit 
to  their  good  taste,  and  is  a  great  ornament  to  the  city.' 

"  In  the  conception  and  progress  of  this  great  work  there  pre- 
sided a  guiding  spirit — one  of  those  rare  characters  from  whom 
great  actions  may  be  expected — and  it  is  her  principle,  which  was 
here  strenuously  carried  out,  that  those  who  labor  for  God's  glory 
should  strain  every  nerve  to  make  their  work  equal,  if  it  cannot 
excel,  the  deeds  of  those  who  toil  for  an  earthly  reward. 

"  The  third  branch  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  in  Dublin  is 
connected  with  one  of  the  most  important  institution':  in  Ireland — 


LIFE  OP  CATHERINE  MOAULBT. 


471 


ndrance.    Snffer- 

aires  no  passport 
and  jealous  scru- 

I'ish  at  the  door, 
of  bis  admission.' 
Mater  Miseri- 

roposed  to  com- 
ipinion  about  the 

partially  erected. 
>o  expensive,  that 
rould  be  better  to 

which  would  be 
ition  of  our  poor, 
■ed  in  favor  of  the 

have  palaces  for 
lieh  what  is  called 
es  of  an  unfeeling 
have  at  least  one 
relieved  in  a  true 
BS  of  the  Gospel? 
Alherghi,  or  Asfizi 
aris.  Why  should 
imitating  the  good 
of  Mercy,  acting 
lined  to  adopt  the 
poverty,  and  they 
I  which  does  credit 
the  city.' 

it  work  there  pre- 
racters  from  whom 
rinciple,  which  was 
aor  for  God's  glory 
equal,  if  it  cannot 
r  reward. 

Mercy  in  Dublin  is 
ationo  iu  Ireland— 


the  Prison  Refuge,  at  Golden  Bridge.  It  was  in  Ireland  that 
the  problem  how  to  reform  our  female  criminals  was  first  solved, 
and  it  is  mainly  owing  to  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  that  the  solution 
was  accomplished.  The  reformation  of  a  female  prisoner  has  long 
been  acknowledged  to  be  a  harder  task  than  that  of  a  male— indeed, 
many  have  deemed  it  impossible.  She  has  sinned  more  against  the 
instincts  of  her  better  nature  ;  the  consequences  of  her  crime  have 
had  a  more  hardening  effect  upon  her,  but  above  all,  the  absence 
of  hojie  has  a  fatal  eflfect  on  her  character.  And  thi,^  despair  is 
really  not  much  to  be  wondered  at.  If  a  poor  woman  endure  her 
sentence  patiently,  and  keep  the  prison  rules,  she  goes  out  at  the 
end  of  her  imprisonment  with  very  little  prospect  for  the  future, 
save  that  of  fresh  dishonesty. 

"  What  is  to  become  of  her  ?  She  has  no  character.  Who  will 
employ  a  discharged  prisoner  ?  For  men  there  are  a  dozen  modes 
of  hard,  rough,  out-door  employment,  but  take  from  a  woman  do- 
mestic service,  charing,  and  laundry-work,  and  nothing  is  left  her 
but  wretched  needlework,  at  which  even  resjj«ctable  women  can 
hardly  earn  their  bread.  It  must  seem  almost  like  a  mockery  to 
sptak  to  a  poor  prisoner  of  the  mercy  of  God,  when  the  mercy  of 
her  fellow-creatures  is  so  sternly  withheld.  For  many  years  the 
Sisters  of  Mercy  have  been  permitted  to  visit  the  prisoners  at 
Mountjoy  Prison,  the  principal  and  strongest  prison  in  Ireland. 

"  Here  the  Sisters  exercise  a  most  beneficial  inCuence  over  the 
miserable  inmates.  They  instruct  them  in  classes,  and  it  is  a  rule 
that  no  prison  ofiBcial  shall  be  present.  Yet  the  class  often  con- 
sists of  wild,  desperate  women,  with  great  physical  strength,  and 
easily  roused  passions  .....  Among  such  as  these  the 
Sisters  move  fearlessly,  and  never  have  had  to  suffer.  Even  the 
vild  din  of  tongues  issuing  from  those  kept  all  day,  and  many  a 
day,  in  enforced  silence,  is  hushed  by  the  uplifted  finger  or  the 
gentle  tones  of  a  Sister  of  Mercy.  Great  good  was,  therefore, 
to  bo  expected  from  placing  these  women  for  the  concluding  part 
of  their  sentence  in  a  refuge  under  the  sole  care  of  these  Sisters. 
Tiie  proposition  was  made  to  the  Superioress  in  April,  1856,  an4 
in  a  few  days  she  was  ready  to  begin  the  work 


II 


I 


-r^iCTirMBWf  ■ 


— '•^a 


MiJNMMWinM*dMMMiHi 


CIHiMMiiiiiti'M.iiiiiwm 


4*72 


LIFE  OP   CATHERINE  MOAULET. 


"  The  Refuge  is  intended  strictly  as  a  ■  'jward  for  good  condact, 
and  the  ktrpe  of  getting  there  is  the  star  that  rises  on  the  dark 
night  of  tlie  prisoners'  despair  and  reclclessness,  and  lead?  thcra 
on  to  exertion.  The  Sisters,  in  their  visits  to  the  prison,  are  able 
to  learn  the  character  of  the  women,  and  this  is  an  immense  help 
to  them  in  the  management  of  the  Refage." 


for  good  coDdact, 
rises  on  the  dark 

and  lead?  them 
16  prison,  are  able 

an  immense  help 


ft 


APPENDIX. 


LETTERS. 

SUCH  letters  of  the  Fonndr^'s  as  would  appear  irrelevant  in 
the  Life,  we  insert  here.  Although  they  may  not  have  a  gen- 
eral interest,  they  will  be  'ouu  wiiu  Jvll^ht  by  Sisters  of  Mercy, 
and  indeed  by  all  Religious.  Except  one  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  they 
are  all  addressed  to  her  own  spiritual  children  : 


St.  Mart's,  Baqoot-stbbot,  Angnst,  1837. 

I  am  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of  forwarding  a  few  lines  to  you. 
Tliank  Qod  you  are  so  well  and  happy,  and  doing  so  much  for  the  aflUct* 
ed  poor.  Blesfied  and  happy  life,  which  makes  death  so  sweet  1  Our  dear 
Catherine*  might  have  sung  in  the  last  hours  of  her  innocent  life,  "  Oh, 
death,  where  is  thy  sting?"  for  sho  did  not  seem  to  feol  any.  I  have  suf- 
fered more  than  usual  from  my  old  pain  of  sorrow  and  anxiety.  Poor 
Sibter  Maria  has  been  very  ill.  I  fear  she  cannot  remain.  Her  delicacy 
increases  daily.  I  pity  hi,r  very  much,  she  is  so  desirous  to  persevere, 
and  so  gentle  and  complying.    Sister  M.  Clare's  eldest  sister  has  joined 

us.    Miss  F ,  from  Meath,  comes  to-morrow,  which  will  make  ten 

postulants,  including  Eliaa  and  Bridget,  lay  Sisters.  This  is  all  the  news 
I  have  Ic.-  you,  my  own  dearly  beloved  child.  The  Rule  is  ready,  but  we 
wait,  hoping  to  get  his  Orace  to  afllx  his  Approbation. 

God  blesa  and  preserve  you  all.  Give  my  most  a^ctionate  love  to 
each  dear  Sister. 

n. 

I  cannot  express  the  gratitude  I  feel  to  the  truly  good,  kind  priests 
who  have  shown  you  all  sucu  kindness  and  attention.  Bister  M.  Jose- 
phine has  given  mo  great  comfort.    I  rejoice  to  find  Sisters  Cecilia  and 

■  Uarnleo*,  SlatfrM.  Agnet  HoAaltjr. 

2(t* 


I 


S 


IfMlMMMMMAlMllMi 


474 


APPENDIX. 


Teresa  bo  happy,  also  Sisters  Anna  and  Catherine,  and  my  dear  old  child 
Josepldne,  'whose  ntTie  linet  I  received.  Enclosed  is  a  note  firom  Sister 
M.  Josephine  Warde,  which  will  gratify  you  aa  it  did  me.  I  hear  great 
accounts  of  her  prudence,  and  nice,  regular  example.  I  saw  all  that  ia 
amiable  in  her  character.  __ 

Qod  bless  you,  my  dear  child. 

III.       .        .     . 
St.  Marie's,  Cobk,  October  12, 18S7. 

I  haye  just  heard,  with  deep  concern,  that  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Nolan  has 
fever.  The  mann- 1  in  which  it  is  reported  gives  me  some  hope  that  it 
ma/  be  a  mistake.  It  ia  said  he  took  it  from  his  curate,  and  the  priest 
who  told  me  dlJ  :<.ot  know  how  long  the  curate  was  dead. 

Sister  L ,  at  Tnllamore,  in  fever.    One  of  the  last  Sisters  we  got  has 

been,  and  still  is,  very  ili.  Father  O'Hanlon  gave  a  gratifying  account 
of  your  healthful  appearance  and  happiness ;  also  of  the  new  convent, 
which  is  admired  by  all  who  see  it. 

I  was  very  glad  you  got  the  Rule,  with  the  Approbation ;  but  if  this 
melancholy  report  is  true,  your  ceremony  will  be  delayed  a  little.  I  trust 
that  is  all. 

All  here  unite  in  affectionate  love  to  you  and  the  dear  Sisters.  Write 
me  a  few  lines  si  soon  as  yon  can,  and  believe  me  ever  your  attached. 

St.  Mabt's,  Dcblin,  November  S2, 1887. 

I  was  greatly  comforted  with  your  letter.  Please  Qod,  Sister  M.  Ur- 
sula will  soon  be  quite  restored.  I  am  delighted  you  all  got  the  venera- 
ble Archbishop's  blessing.  When  I  went  to  Kingstown,  I  found  Sister 
M.  Elizabeth  heavy,  and  far  from  well.  I  remained  three  days,  and 
made  her  stay  in  bed.  She  is  recovered,  thank  Qod.  All  well  here.  We 
go  to  Westland  Row  (Church)  to  Mliss  every  morning,  which  gives  us  a 
good  appetite  for  our  breakfast.  My  dear  Sister  M.  Josephine  is  happy 
in  her  new  state,  and  the  novices  quite  at  home  in  the  coif,  etc.,  etc 

Rememlier  me  with  respect  and  affection  to  my  dear  friend  Dr.  Fitz. 
gerald,  who  has  taken  such  a  kind,  feeling  part  in  our  troubles.  Tell 
him  all  will  end  well.  Remember  me  most  gratefully  to  the  other  good 
clergymen  from  whom  we  experienced  such  attention  and  kindness.  To 
Father  Maher  you  could  not  omit  to  offer  my  gprateful,  respectful  remem 
branco,  Qod  has  given  you  all  a  good  Father  in  him.  May  Qod  bless 
and  animate  you  all  with  His  own  Spirit,  that  you  may  prove  it  is  Jesos 
Christ  you  love  and  serve  vrith  your  whole  hearts. 

P.  S. — It  will  give  you  pleasure  to  hear  that  James  and  Robert  have 
been  to  see  me.  Both  go  on  remarkably  wtll,  living  together,  and  study* 
ing  for  the  bar  with  real  attention.    Robert's  pay  increased. 


APPENDIX. 


475 


I  my  dear  old  child 

a  note  firom  Siatei 

me.    I  hear  great 

I  saw  all  that  ia 


c,  Ootobef  12, 1887. 
Bev.  Dr.  Nolan  has 

some  hope  that  it 
irate,  and  the  priest 
lead. 
St  Sisters  we  got  has 

gratifying  account 
jf  the  new  convent, 

obation ;  but  if  this 
yed  a  little.    I  trust 

iear  Sisters.    Write 
er  your  attached. 

November  22, 1887. 
e  God,  Sister  M.  Ur- 
u  all  got  the  venera- 
itown,  I  found  Sister 
ued  three  days,  and 
All  well  here.  We 
»g,  which  gives  ns  a 
Josephine  is  happy 
he  coif,  etc.,  etc 
dear  friend  Dr.  Fitz. 
I  our  troubles.  Tell 
illy  to  the  other  good 
in  and  kindness.  To 
Ful,  respectful  remem 
him.  May  God  bless 
may  prove  it  is  Jesus 

mes  and  Robert  have 
» together,  and  study- 
acreaiied. 


•'  ■   ^  -i  .  ?  s.*  T  .-.      St.  Patrick's,  KiNQSTOwif,  January,  1838. 

Tliough  I  find  it  difficult  to  write  without  the  assistance  of  my  second 
hand,  yet  I  am  going  to  depart  from  my  rigid  rule  of  not  writing  mora 
than  six  lines,  or  what  is  barely  necessary.  1  will  tell  you  all  I  can  col- 
lect, but  first,  must  heartily  congratulate  you  on  the  arrival  of  Miss  Ma. 
her,  to  whom  I  beg  you  to  offer  my  affectionate  regards.  If  Miss  Coflfey 
has  come,  remember  mo  to  her,  and  tell  her  we  all  pray  that  she  may 
get  good  health  and  the  grace  of  perseverance.  The  account  of  Sist«r 
M.  Ursula  is  consoling  indeed.  She  will  not  feel  the  winter  passing  in 
C'arlow,  the  air  is  BO  mild  and  clear.  I  am  sure  she  will  bo  a  grateful 
child  for  all  your  affectionate  care  and  solicitude,  and  make  herself,  like 
Missie Rice,*  "generally  useful."  Then  she  will  be  quite  prepared  for 
Bootcrstown.  I  ain  comforted  to  hear  of  all  the  fatherly  affection  you 
meet.  The  beautj  of  your  convent  has  become  a  town  talk.  Father 
Carroll  is  proclaimiiij-  it  as  the  handsomest  in  Ireland. 

Remember  me,  witl  great  respect  and  esteem,  to  all  our  good  pastors 
and  friends.    I  Vc/pe  to  have  a  strong  party  of  exquisite  singers  for  the 
blessing  of  the  chapel.    Tell  Father  Dan  his  teacher  will  expect  to  find 
him  well  prepared  after  diligent  practice. 
P.  B.—AU  private. 

As  if  you  and  I,  like  old  Darby  and  Joan,  were  sitting  together  at  the 
community-table.  The  day  after  I  arrived  hero  I  broke  my  arm.  The 
inflammation  was  so  great  tliat  nothing  could  be  done  but  apply  leeches. 
After  two  days.  Surgeon  White  boimd  me  up  in  boards.  A  broken  arm 
is  by  no  means  so  distressing  a  matter  as  I  always  supposed— the  want 
of  its  use  is  the  chief  inconvenience.  However,  take  grtsai  rre  of  your 
bones,  and,  if  you  go  through  the  new  convent  before  stairs  aio  put  up, 
be  extremely  cautious. 

No  arrangement  has  yet  been  made  as  to  chaplain.  Poor  Sister  M.  di 
Pazzi  is  after  getting  one  of  your  old  Mother's  best  and  strongest  lectures 
and  reasoning.  She  is  perfectly  happy.  1  know  you  will  be  particu- 
larly kind  to  Miss  Doyle's  aunt,  who  goes  as  housekeeper  to  the  college. 
You  have  a  high  name  in  that  quarter. 

Sister  M.  Magdalen  gave  a  few  lectures,  while  I  was  absent,  on  the 
duty  of  a  Superioress,  and  on  being  away  from  the  convent.  She  haa 
reason  to  think  I  heard  it,  and  is  as  meek  as  a  lamb. 

May  God  bless  and  preserve  you  all,  is  the  constant  prayer  of  your  ever 
fond  Mother. 


•MlssleRlce  was  a  doUcate  orphan  child  Mother  MoAulcy  took  In  some  time  before.  This 
little  lady  used  sometimes  grow  tired  of  Baggot-street,  and  ask  for  a  "  change  of  air,"  •*  U 
I  oonld  go  to  Cork  or  Carlow,"  said  she,  "  I'd  make  myself  generally  useful." 


"""'vvfmv* 


476 


APPENDIX. 


Convent,  Baoqot-btrest,  December,  1887. 

A  very  pleasing  young  person,  of  plain  education,  railed  here  yester- 
day, to  say  she  wished  to  join  the  Carlow  Sisters.  Rev.  Mr.  McSwiney 
atfvised  her  to  call  here,  and  inquire  of  me  if  three  hundred  pounds 
would  be  accepted.  Her  name  is  Kelly.  She  has  a  brother  at  the  col- 
lege. They  live  five  miles  from  Carlow.  I  like  her  greatly — very  nice- 
looking  and  sweet  countenance.  When  I  say  plain  education,  I  do  not 
mean  any  thing  objectionable.  I  referred  her  to  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  and  rec- 
ommended Mrs.  Warde  in  the  highest  terms.  I  hope  she  will  not  dis^^ce 
my  judgment. 

Write  soon.  Sister  M.  Teresa  has  delighted  me  telling  of  the  instruc- 
tions you  give.  Shme  them  forth  in  your  aetiona  at  much  as  you  can,  my 
dear  child,  and  your  houfie  wUl  outdo  us.  May  God  grant  you  all  the 
gifts  reserved  for  this  holy  season. 

I  have  been  walking  three  hours  in  the  snow,  so  I  am  growing  young 
again.  Eight  Sisters  in  retreat,  and  so  much  to  be  done,  I  am  obliged  to 
assist.  Seven  to  be  received,  and  Sister  A.  Scott  to  be  professed  on 
Wednesday. 

vm. 

Dublin,  Eve  of  the  Annunciation,  1888. 
I  am  sure  the  Sisters  are  all  very  anxious  to  hear  of  our  dear  Sister 
Aloysia.  Thank  God,  the  feverish  symptoms  have  passed  away,  though 
she  continued  ill  and  heavy  all  day  Thursday.  She  was  up  a  little  yes- 
terday, and  now  comphuas  only  of  weakness.  She  did  not  sleep  till  after 
four  this  morning,  and  still  seems  to  be  apprehensive ;  but,  please  God, 
there  is  no  fear.  I  trust  my  poor  Sister  M.  Cecilia  has  been  pretty  well, 
taking  great  care  to  avoid  cold  and  hunger,  as  desired.  The  weather 
here  is  fine,  but  frosty.  I  suppose  it  is  milder  with  you.  I  trust  the 
ceremony  will  go  off  well.  We  nil  pray  for  dear  Sister  Maher.  I  have 
charged  the  travellers*  to  bring  me  a  full  accoimt,  and  hope  to  hear  all 
on  Tuesday.  Very  Eev.  Dr.  Ennis  was  here  yesterday,  about  our  going 
to  Booterstown.  There  is  a  good  room,  in  which  the  caretaker's  family 
lived  all  the  winter.  I  intend  to  put  Sisters  Cecilia  and  Ursula  in  that ; 
indeed,  every  part  of  it  is  perfectly  dry,  it  has  been  so  long  building. 
Sister  M.  Teresa  desires  a  thousand  loves  to  you  all.  She  is  doing  much 
for  the  poor,  thank  God.   I  expect  to  find  Sister  Ursula  greatly  improved, 

from  what  I  see  of  the  effects  of  Carlow.    Sister  Teresa  W never 

tires  speaking  of  the  instruction  and  advantages  she  received  there.  She 
is  uneasy  about  her  young  brother,  who  writes  very  dissatisfied,  etc 
She  hopes  you  will  advise  him.    His  family  are  in  Dublin.    It  would  be 


••■BeP?"" 


APPENDIX. 


477 


December,  1887. 
oiled  here  yester- 
ev.  Mr.  McSwiney 

hundred  ponnda 
brother  at  the  col- 
greatly— very  nice- 
education,  I  do  not 
Fitzgerald,  and  rec- 
le  will  not  disgrace 

ling  of  the  instruc- 
luch  a»  you  can,  my 
i  grant  you  all  the 

am  growing  young 
ane,  I  am  obliged  to 
to  be  professed  on 


Annunciation,  1888. 
ir  of  our  dear  Sister 
passed  away,  though 
D  was  up  a  little  yes- 
lid  not  sleep  till  after 
ive ;  but,  please  God, 
has  been  pretty  well, 
esired.  The  weather 
itJi  you.  I  trust  the 
lister  Maher.    I  have 

and  hope  to  hear  all 
day,  about  our  going 
he  caretaker's  family 
i  and  Ursula  in  that ; 
len  BO  long  building. 
I.  She  is  doing  much 
rala  greatly  improved, 

Teresa  W never 

0  received  there.    She 
very  dissatisfied,  ete. 

Dublin.    It  would  be 

a  reception. 


better  for  him  to  write  to  his  eldest  sister.  Poor  Teresa  cannot  do  much 
for  him,  now  that  she  cannot  see  him. 

The  passengers  on  the  stage-coaches  are  bringing  descriptions  of  the 
new  convent.  I  hear  of  it  constantly.  God  bless  and  preserve  you  and 
all  with  you,  my  very  daap  old  child.  Sister  M.  Cecilia  will  bring  our 
Register  and  print  for  you  during  three  days.  She  would  have  done 
your  Register  long  since  ;  but,  knowing  there  wst".  one  who  could  do  it 
more  fancifully,  she  was  quite  anxious  lo  get  it  done  so.  That  one*  has 
more  of  her  own  ways  yet  than  of  ours,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  fix  her  to  a 
point.  She  finds  the  duties  sufficient  to  fill  up  all  her  time,  and,  as  her 
constitution  is  strong,  she  is  much  employed  in  out-door  work. 

Bootcrstown  finished.  There  is  a  good  garden  for  the  weak  ones.  I 
will  find  it  difficult  to  ;»dd  this  to  the  present  charge.  When  quite  over- 
whelmed,  I  reanimate  myself  with  the  words  of  the  dear,  saintly  Dr. 
Nolan:  "  It  is  my  lot." 

Charity  sermon  for  our  poor — bad.    Bazaar — unpromising. 

All  unite  in  love  with  your  ever  fondly  attached  Mother  in  Christ. 

IX. 

Bt.  Mart's  Convemt,  Baooot-btbeet,  April  9, 1888- 
I  feel  very  grateful,  indeed,  for  Father  Maher's  kindness  in  writing  to 
me,  but  afflicted  to  find  such  powerful  remedies  necessary  for  you.  Our 
dear  Sister  Teresa  is  much  better.  Sister  Cecilia  very  delicate ;  but  wo 
must  live  and  die  between  Baggot-street,  -Booterstowu,  and  poor  Kings- 
town. No  Sister  can  go  to  Carlow  who  is  not  to  remain.  They  all  get  too 
fond  of  it.  We  are  likely  to  have  the  long-desired  public  laundry  built 
this  season.  Through  the  providence  of  God  and  the  kindness  of  Father 
O'Hanlon,  we  have  got  a  legacy  nearly  equal  to  the  expense.  What  a 
comfort,  if  I  am  permitted  to  see  some  secure  way  of  supporting  our 
poor  women  and  children  established !  not  to  bo  depending  on  daily  ex- 
ertions so  difficult  to  keep  up.  I  look  forward  wli^h  joy  to  the  time  wheu 
1  hope  to  see  you  again.  1  "uembcr  me  respectfully  to  the  clergymen  I 
have  the  pleasure  to  know,  t  id  aSuctionately  to  the  Sisters.  Let  me 
soon  have  a  letter  from  your  dear  self.  Father  Carroll  was  burprised  to 
hear  you  were  ill ;  he  thought  you  looked  so  well.  Sister  Elizabeth  was 
delighted  with  the  new  convent.  She  says  it  is  quite  irresistible— a  reg- 
ular trap.    It  is  gratifying  to  hear  you  are  to  have  the  comfort  of  it  so  soon. 


/ 


X. 


CoNVBNT  or  Merot,  Dcblin,  May  15, 1838. 
We  have  been  looking  for  franks,  but  I  could  not  wait  any  longer.  We 
had  some  days  of  real  summer,  which  had  a  most  beneficial  effect  on  our 

*  A  young  lady  who  had  entered  a  few  moiittas  previous.    She  pbliited  exqultltely,  bat 
wu  M  ticv  that  tbo  Foundrees  often  coniplaloed  of  her. 


478 


APPENDIX, 


Invalids.  Sharp  cold  ycsterdaj,  and  sleet  this  mornmg — und  thej  have 
felt  the  change  already.  I  expect  to  hear,  please  God,  that  you  Iiave  im- 
proved very  much.  I  did  hope  to  have  our  weak  ones  in  Booterstown 
this  week,  but  am  afraid  to  venture,  though  it  is  very  sheltered,  and 
Father  Doyle  most  pressing.  We  are  too  fall  here  for  hot  weather,  nnd 
we  expect  two  more.  Thus  we  go  on,  my  dear  Sister,  flourishing  in  the 
midst  of  the  cross,  a  more  than  common  share  of  which  has  lately  fallen 
to  my  lot.  I  humbly  trust  it  is  the  Cross  of  Clirist.  I  endeavor  to  make 
it  in  some  way  like  His  by  silence  and  resignation. 

I  hope  you  hear  from  our  dear  Sister  M.  Josephine  Boaietimcs.  Each 
of  her  letters  to  me  is  more  expressive  of  gratitude  and  affection  xhan 
the  former.  This  is  consoling,  as  it  shows  that  her  happiness  is  evi- 
dently increasing,  thank  God.  I  scarcely  ever  felt  more  surfirised  than 
on  reading  a  letter  from  Sister  M.  Teresa  to  Sister  Cecilia,  on  "  Geraldine" 
joining  the  Order.  Indeed,  if  you  saw  it,  you  would  say  she  improved. 
All  here  were  astonished.  Sister  M.  Di  Fazzi  should  have  it  in  her  own 
hand.  I  regretted  very  much  that  the  packet  was  going  out  before  I 
could  show  it  to  her  mamma.  I  have  been  often  severe  to  her  on  that 
subject,  so  I  lost  no  time  in  thanking  her  for  this  first  creditable  produc- 
tion. She  is  never  troublesome,  or  complaining  of  any  thing,  or  pressing 
me  i  •  go  to  Kingstown,  and  all  with  her  are  most  happy,  even  my  per- 

verF'C  C .    1  fear  poor  Sister  Jane  will  have  to  leave,  she  often  looks 

like  poor  Maria — quite  blue.  Iler  mother  has  made  a  settlement  on  her, 
or,  as  we  now  term  it,  "  settled  for  the  bread  and  butter."  For  Booters- 
town we  have  marked  out  Sister  M.  Cecilia,  Superior :  Sister  M.  Aloysia, 
to  manage  the  collection  business  and  servants.  Sister  Marmion  must 
be  off  duty,  except  a  little  walking  in  good  air.  Sister  Mary  is  quite 
strong  and  useful,  has  the  whole  house  on  her  shoulders — ii-armarian 
and  cell  regulator,  etc. — qidto  a  dear,  valuable  little  Sister. 

All  goes  on  well  in  Tullamore.  Mrs.  F.  has  not  fulfilled  her  engage- 
ment for  Charleville,  pcriiaps  she  may.  I  did  hope  to  liave  our  laundry 
commenced  by  this ;  but  delays  are  innumerable.  By  Dr.  Mtzgerald's 
particular  advice,  we  are  leaving  it  to  Mr.  Mullen,  though  he  charges 
higher  than  others.  What  would  I  not  give  to  see  it  at  full  work  I  We 
must  g^ve  up  all  our  garden  for  drying-ground  and  gn^ass-plot ;  but  there 
can  be  a  walk  around  it.  Remember  me  to  all  the  dear  Sisters,  and  to  all 
you  wish  I  should  remember.  Believe  me  at  all  times,  and  .  nder  all 
circumstances,  the  very  same  fondly  attached 


XI. 


Mart  C.  McAcley. 


-       •  St.  Annk'*,  BooTKRBTo-wN,  Juno  18,  1888. 

Yesterday  I  received  your  note,  dattid  3d  instant.  The  music  was  ready ; 
but,  as  usual,  I  was  left  to  guess  all  about  it.  We  have  a  sad  practice  of 
not  mentioning  in  time  what  is  to  be  forwarded.    I  feel  mortified  that 


"".''sSlfyfi^  ~ 


APPEIIDIX. 


479 


ig — und  they  have 
ihat  you  liave  im- 
as  in  Booterstown 
'ery  sheltered,  and 
:  hot  weather,  and 
,  flourishing  in  the 
;h  has  lately  fallen 
;  endeavor  to  make 

soanetimcB.    Each 
and  affection  *.han 
r  happiness  is  evi- 
lore  surprised  than 
ilia,  on  "  Geraldine" 
L  say  she  improved, 
have  it  in  her  own 
goinf  out  before  I 
irere  to  her  on  that 
t  creditable  produc- 
nytlung,orpre8ring 
happy,  even  myper- 
eavc,  she  often  looks 
a  settlement  on  her, 
itter."    For  Booters- 
r :  Sister  M.  Aloysio, 
lister  Mannion  must 
Bister  Mary  is  quite 
loulders— ii-VJrmurian 

I  Sister. 

fulfilled  her  engage- 
to  have  our  laundry 

By  Dr.  tltzgerald's 
1,  though  he  chargea 
it  at  full  workl  We 
grass-plot ;  but  there 
dear  Sisters,  and  to  all 

times,  and  .  nder  all 

Maby  C.  McAdlby. 

isrowN,  Juno  16,  1888. 

The  music  was  ready ; 
I  have  a  sad  practice  of 

I  feel  morUfied  that 


yoa  should  be  disappointed.  I  hurried  out  here  to  get  my  poor  Teretm 
change  of  air.  She  is  '  etter  already :  but  fretting  so  much  at  being  taken 
from  her  employment,  that  I  fear  the  good  effects  will  be  neutralized. 
She  annoyed  us  by  her  gloomy  manner.  The  business  goes  on  just  aa 
well  with  Sister  Scott,  though  I  was  alarmed  enough  on  seeing  how  con- 
stantly she  attended  to  it.  Teresa  distressed  me  much  yesterday.  It 
looked  as  though  she  was  sorry  to  hear  the  business  went  on  as  usual. 
Please  God,  she  will  triumph  over  these  human  weaknesses,  and  I  rejoice 
iu  the  good  which  will  result  from  her  seeing  that  those  thiags  do  not 
depend  on  any  one  in  particular,  but  only  on  the  continuance  of  God's 
blessing.  This  house  is  etter  than  I  expected.  The  cells  are  uncom- 
fortable, doors  so  very  large,  and  in  the  centre,  so  that  the  head  of  the 
bed  would  not  fit  at  either  side,  and  the  windows  as  large,  opposite  the 
door.  The  only  way  with  room  is  across,  which  scarcely  leaves  a  pass  at 
the  foot — thus  [here  is  an  explanatory  drawing].  My  jwor  Teresa  is 
coughing  now.  She  has  that  cough  more  than  seven  months,  bat  not 
the  expectoration.    Her  appetite  is  better,  thank  God. 

I  had  a  note  from  Sister  M.  Josephine  ;  she  always  writes  such  satisfac- 
tory notes.  Dr.  Murphy  likes  her  very  much.  His  Lordship  has  been 
here.  There  is  too  much  co'ition  in  Cork  to  build  in  a  hurry,  but  they 
have  a  good  residence  for  their  number.  I  trust  your  cells  will  not  have 
too  much  door,  and  will  have  a  good  place  for  a  bed,  wWch  might  have 
been  here  had  the  doors  been  put  to  one  end  ;  thus —  [here  is  another 
drawing],  in  place  of  which  we  have  a  great  wide  door  in  the  centre,  op- 
posite  a  large  vrindow.  "  Mrs.  Duflfy  "*  is  very  bold— she  has  the  whoop» 
ing-cough.  This  is  a  queer  mixture,  but  she  is  just  making  a  great  noise. 
Wo  brought  her  here  for  change  of  air.  We  have  troublesome  neigh- 
bors, and  feel  it.  Bishop  Murphy  was  here  twice.  We  have  a  majority 
of  Bishopb,  at  all  events.  Take  care  not  to  let  this  nonsense  be  subject  to 
any  eye  but  your  own.  May  God  bless  and  protect  you,  and  make  you 
the  instrument  of  Tlis  glory.  May  He  prepare  you  all  to  enter  the  new 
convent  with  a  heart  entirely  devoted  to  Himsolf. 

P.  S.— I  went  to  town  and  forgot  this  letter.    I  am  so  confused — and 

never  dressed  so  neat  as  my  fiyar,  darling  Fanny  used  to  fix  her  old 

Mother.    I  am  at  this  moment  in  a  fuss  at  being  obliged  to  appear  ia 

disorder. 

XII. 

" '     To  Vert  Rev.  Andrew  Fit7-gebald,  D.  D.  *  * 

CoNVBNT,  BooTKRSTOwN,  July  8,  1888, 
My  DE.\n  Reverend  Sir  : 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  your  kind  letter,  and  hav.  admitted  the 

•  '  Mrs.  Duffy"  wu  a  pet  name  for  one  of  tlie  orphina.  If  the  little  one  alluded  to  under 
tills  tit'.o  b«  sllll  living,  she  must  Brid  »  safeguard  la  the  memory  of  the  iwaet  spirit  that 
watched  OTer  her  w^yward  childhood. 


480 


APPENDIX. 


1 


p^  jr  gill  for  wliom  yon  are  bo  interested.  When  I  return  to  Baggot 
Street  I  shall  g^ive  every  attcntiou  to  your  wishes  respecting  her.  Every 
thing  here  is  much  more  satisfactory  than  we  expected.  I  know  you  will 
be  pleased  to  hear  that  Father  Ennis*  is  remarkably  lilnd,  and  anxious 
tc  do  all  in  his  power  to  promote  our  comfort.  He  regrets  the  past,  and 
says  if  he  lives  seven  years  more,  it  will  be  atoned  for.  When  you  were 
in  town  1  mentioned  to  you  a  young  widow  from  Madras,  who  seemed  dis- 
posed to  unite  with  us.  Her  director  re^mmended  Rathfamam  Convent.f 
She  entered  there,  but  has  left,  saying  she  felt  a  strong  preference  l}r 
the  Order  of  Mercy.  I  hope  I  shall  have  her  to  introduce  to  you  when  I 
have  the  happiness  to  see  you  again.  Mr.  Mullen's  estimate  for  the 
laundry  is  five  hundred  pounds  less  than  the  other,  which  greatly  but 
prised  us.  He  is  quite  interested,  and  thinks  it  will  give  much  value  tc 
the  Institute.  The  sincere,  afibctionate  concern  which,  my  dear  sir,  yon 
have  ever  manifested,  makes  me  desirous  to  communicate  every  thing  to 
you. 

The  delightful  description  I  get  of  Carlow  Convent  makes  me  anxious 
to  see  it.  It-y  innocent  Sister  M.  Frances  says  the  poplars  are  in  fiill 
bloom,  T  ith  evergreens  between,  and  roses  growing  on  the  mound. 

I  am  almost  afraid  to  hear  of  the  Limerick  foundation,  lest  it  should 
come  in  the  way  of  my  visit  to  Carlow.  I  have  reason  to  expect  conclu- 
sive arrangements,  but  we  must  put  it  off  a  little.  Father  Cooke,  of 
Charleville,  has  been  here.  He  comforted  me  greatly  by  the  account  ho 
gave  of  the  Sisters.    He  said  if  he  were  obliged  to  go  to  England  to  beg 

for  the  erection  of  a  convent,  they  should  be  at  no  loss  by  Miss  C 'a 

marriage.    This  was  very  strong  language  from  rather  a  cold  character. 

We  have  a  striking  example  before  us  of  the  power  we  possess  of  ex- 
erdning  imweoricd  efforts  of  mind  and  body,  in  the  perpetual  movements 
of  the  steam-carriages  which  seem  just  passing  our  windows. 

I  know  you  do  not  forget  me,  and  remain,  my  dear  Kev.  Sir, 

Your  ever-grateful  and  affectionate  M.  C.  McAtjlet. 

P.  S.  My  brother  came  to  see  me,  and  I  find  that  the  apprehensions  I 
expressed  to  you  about  religious  influence  with  James  and  Robert,  were, 
thank  Qod,  without  foundation." 

XIII. 
•  Bt.  Maky's,  Ddbun,  August,  1888. 

As  to  my  delay  in  writing  to  you,  I  Lave  been  tortured  with  my  ulcer- 
p*ied  mouth,  only  just  getting  a  little  bettor ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  other 

*  Father  EnnIs  vas  a  partloiilar  ttWni  of  Kluthcr  HcAuley's,  and  as  ho  had  mnoh  inlla- 
ence  with  Dr.  M<>]rlor,  Rho  reasonably  vxpocied  he  would  use  It  In  bor  favor  when  iheehsp- 
lalncy  difllciiltios  oocurred.    Iiillils  she  was  dlsappolntod. 

t  Kathfarnam  Convent,  the  inollior  House  of  the  Loretto  Nans  In  Ireland,  an  Ortltr 
fuundad  by  Mrs.  Aloysla  Ball,  fur  the  education  of  the  uppur  Mid  middle  olaasas. 


■■MHm^ 


return  to  Baggot. 

Ipccting  her.    Every 

led.    I  know  you  will 

|y  kind,  and  anxiooB 

egrets  the  past,  and 

r.    When  yon  were 

Jdras,  who  seemed  dis- 

lathfamam  Convent.f 

strong  preference  lor 

roduco  to  you  when  I 

en's  estimate  for  the 

er,  which  greatly  sur 

1  give  much  value  to 

hich,  my  dear  sir,  you 

unicate  every  thing  to 

ent  makes  me  anxious 
ho  poplars  are  in  full 
ig  on  the  mound, 
indation,  lest  it  should 
eason  to  expect  conclu- 
ttle.  Father  Cooke,  of 
jatly  by  the  account  he 
)  go  to  England  to  beg 

10  loss  by  Miss  C 'i 

athor  a  cold  character. 
)ower  we  possess  of  ex- 
le  perpetual  movementa 
ir  windows. 
3ar  Kev.  Sir, 

M.  C.  McAin-KY. 
lat  the  apprehensions  I 
unes  and  Robert,  were. 


,  DuBLiK,  August,  1838. 
tortured  with  my  ulcer- 
,  in  the  midst  of  other 

''8,  and  M  ho  had  muoh  inila- 
It  In  hor  hvor  when  the  eh«p- 

a  Nana  In  IreUnd,  m  Ordtr 
uid  lulddU  olmnii 


APPENDIX. 


481 


matters,  the  Limerick  Foundation  was  pressed  and  concluded  for  the  first 
week  in  September.  You  may  be  sure  this  is  sorrowful  news  for  me  if  I 
cannot  go  to  Carlow,  but  it  is  impossible  to  put  it  off.  The  season  does 
not  admit  of  delay — we  are  too  late  as  it  is.  We  have  not  yet  determined 
who  will  go  beddes  Sisters  Elizabeth  Moore  and  M.  Vincent  Hartnett. 
The  account  given  of  all  our  dear  Sisters  who  have  gone  forth  is  so  satis- 
factory, that  our  Invitations  are  endless.  Father  O'Hanlon  has  just  re' 
turned  from  Cork,  Charleville,  and  Tullamore.  He  was  never  such  an 
advocate  for  founding  Houses  as  he  is  now.  I  do  not  mention  to  him  our 
invitations,  lest  he  should  bo  pressing  what  cannot  be  done.  We  are 
near  a  stop — I  should  say  a  full  stop.  H^.r.da  and  feet  are  plentiful 
enough,  but  the  Tieadt  are  nearly  all  gone.  Get  all  the  prayers  you  can 
that  we  may  get  well  through  this  business.  I  need  not  pity  yon  and 
myself  for  our  mutual  disappointment,  but,  please  Ood,  I  will  avail  my- 
self, on  my  return,  of  the  permission  I  got,  and  if  I  cannot  see  the  convent 
Uessing,  I  hope  to  see  it  liett,  which  is  as  good.  Remembor  me  to  all  the 
dear  Sisters,  now  a  fine  flock,  thank  Qod.  Your  fond  and  faithful  Sister 
Teresa  is  doing  a  great  deal  for  the  poor  of  Kingstown. 

- ■  ■'^•:" .  '  3av.  .     '  ■     _ 

St.  Mart's  Convknt,  Livsbick,  November  17, 1888. 
I  would  have  written  sooner,  but  waited  to  tell  you  when  we  expect 
to  leave  this,  which  was  not  decided  till  yesterday.  I  hope  to  be  with 
you  on  the  Feast  of  tlie  Conception,  but  am  not  yet  sure  that  drcum- 
Btonccs  wiU  admit  of  it.  Poor  Sister  M.  Di  Pazzi  has  been  ill  so  fre- 
quently since  I  left  Dublin  that  I  dread  every  account.  She  writes  to  me, 
but  is  not  aware  I  have  been  told.  I  did  not  stay  one  day  for  res*  or 
recreation,  but  extreme  caution  was  necessary  in  selecting  Sisters  likely 
to  make  a  good  steady  beginning,  and  I  trust  we  have  succeeded.  The 
House  of  Men^  opens  on  Monday. 

XV. 

Baooot-stiiixt,  December,  1888. 

We  got  through  onr  oeremony  under  painful  circumstances.  Poor 
Mrs.  Marmion*  got  her  last  illness  just  when  retreat  commenced.  We 
concealed  it  from  Sister  Frances,  but  on  the  third  day,  as  she  passed 
t>jough  thq  hall,  she  heard  a  rocbBag*)  given.  She  remained  perfectly 
quiet,  till  the  day  of  her  profession.  She  merely  read  her  vows,  then 
went  immediately  to  hor  dear  mamma,  who  was  in  great  joy  to  see  her 
a  nun.  She  lived  four  days,  her  cUldren  all  about  her.  "  I  wonder  is 
there  a  woman  in  the  world  dying  so  happily  or  ","  said  she.  Indeed,  she 
wna  highly  favored  by  Qod  1 

*  Three  of  Mrs.  Mtrmlou'i  dtugbtere  were  BUten  of  Heroy. 


482 


^PENDIX. 


The  Ulomination  is  very  nicely  done.  I  think  the  printing  remarkably 
good.  The  Judgt/*  aays  the  etching  woold  be  very  good,  if  it  were  not 
BO  heavy ;  but  I  do  not  mind  half  what  she  says  on  these  scientific 
points,  which  she  delights  in  unfolding. 


XVL 


>.: ,  :'!- 


Baooot-strikt,  Fs-tmary,  1889. 

I  cannot  describe  the  Joy  yoor  letter  afforded  me.  I  fear  I  am  in  dan- 
ger of  getting  a  little  jealous.  Poor  Baggot-street  is  outdone.  If  yea 
make  a  Foundation  already,  I  may  retire  fh>m  business,  and  certainly 
without  having  made  a  fortune.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  is  delighted.  The  school 
exceeds  all  he  hoped  for.  He  is  really  gratified,  which  is  a  great  comfort 
to  me.  Bishop  Murphy  celebrated  Mass  here.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  attending  him. 
You  could  not  think  of  anything  more  venerable  than  the  two  white 
heads.  Bight  Rev.Dr.  Murphy  will  vii^t  you.  I  hope  he  may  see  all  together. 

Mr.  Boylan  told  me  he  never  saw  anything  prettier  than  your  choir, 
and  rejoiced  that  he  was  just  in  time  to  prevent  the  same  mistake  that 
was  made  hsrre — that  of  putting  on  colors  too  soon. 

In  separating  from  the  sisters  for  Naas,  you  have  a  trial  to  go  through. 
Remember  the  venerated  Dr.  Nolan's  words,  "It  ia  my  lot."  To  reflect 
that  it  is'the  lot  or  portion  God  has  marked  out  for  us,  will  be  sufllcient 
in  every  emergency,  and  that  in  the  cheerful  performance  of  every  part 
of  our  "lot,"  our  sanctification  consists.  There  is  reason  to  believe  you 
have  been  an  obedient  child,  since  to  the  obedient  victory  is  given.  May 
Ood  continue  his  blessings  to  you,  and  render  you  every  day  more  de- 
serving of  them. 

I  suppose  you  have  seen  Oerdldine'i  third  volume ;  something  about 
the  Order  of  Mercy  in  it.  She  is  getting  the  three  fancifully  bodnd  for 
her  grandmother.  I  wish  my  dear  respected  eldest  sonf  would  come  to 
her  profession ;  that  would  make  me  feel  quite  a  charming  young  woman 
again.  v 

Oive  my  most  affectionate  love  to  all  my  dear  grandchildren 

Father  O'Hanlon  was  delighted  with  your  letter.  There  was  scarcely 
ever  a  more  disinterested  friend.  Always  remember  him  distinctly.  No 
Mrs.  Bridgman  entered  in  Limerick..  They  have  not  the  honor  of  a 
widow  yet.  Bister  Teresa  continues  most  ardent  in  all  her  employments. 
Our  last,  a  sweet  young  creature,  reminds  me  of  our  first  fiork. 


•>»t: 


.i  if>.,..it.. 


xvn. 


Dublin,  January,  1889. 
I  have  come  back  to  my  old  comer  to  write  to  you  after  all  are  gone  to 
bed ;  we  are  exactly  as  yon  left  us.    We  expect  a  postulant,  not  twenty 

•The  Jadge— «  BtBter  skllUd  lu  painting,  lllamlntUon,  tM, 
t  B*T.  Mr.  NoUn,  of  Carlow. 


ke  prindng  remarkably 

'  good,  if  it  were  not 

bjB  on  these  scientific 


KT,  F'tmary,  1889. 

I  fear  I  am  in  dan- 

et  is  outdone.    If  you 

business,  and  certainly 

delighted.    The  school 

hich  is  a  great  comfort 

tzgerald  attending  him. 

le  than  the  tiro  white 

he  may  see  all  together. 

ttier  than  your  choir, 

the  same  mistake  that 

I. 

i  a  trial  to  go  throngh. 
M  my  lot."  To  reflect 
x  OS,  will  be  sufficient 
formance  of  every  part 
s  reason  to  believe  yon 
victory  is  given.  May 
rou  every  day  more  de- 
lame;  something  about 
ree  fancifully  bo&nd  for 
9Bt  sonf  would  come  to 
:harming  young  woman 

randchildren 
)r.  There  was  scarcely 
iber  him  distinetlj/.  No 
ve  not  the  honor  of  a 
In  all  her  employments. 
ai  first  flork. 

DimuN,  January,  1889. 
'ou  after  all  are  gone  to 
I  postulant,  not  twenty 

ilDkUon,  te 


>«««,, 


APPENDIX. 


483 


yet,  very  pleasing  and  very  musical.  It  is  past  ten ;  the  fire  is  out,  and 
the  windows  are  making  an  awful  noise  ;  so  I  mtist  Imve  done.  I  could 
not  descril>e  the  extreme  kindness  of  Bishop  Haly.  He  was  afraid  I 
might  be  uneasy  lest  the  little  arrangements  he  made  should  cause  you 
any  uneasiness,  and  he  gave  the  most  full  and  unquestionably  faithful 
assurance  of  deepest  interest  and  regard.  You  all  have  a  true  father 
in  him. 

May  God  blew,  guide,  and  protect  you  and  your  charge.  Oood-night, 
my  dearest  child,  j;;;  -,      .?.—•.  -  Your  fond, 

■  Ciii    :  ji  ?>wki  MABT  C.  McAULBT, 

xvm. 

St.  Mart's,  January  10, 1880. 

I  have  been  uneasy  since  I  heard  how  you  were  affected,  though  I  am 
aware  there  may  be  no  serious  cause.  Let  me  entreat  you  not  to  be 
going  out  in  the  garden  the  mildest  days  in  this  month  without  careful 
lapping  up.  Have  your  shawl  crossed  on  your  chest,  and  your  feet  very 
warm.  I  charge  you,  if  you  have  any  affection  for  me,  not  to  be  looking 
after  the  building  at  present. 

Our  poor  Sisters  White  are  in  great  affliction.  An  account  of  their 
brother  William's  death,  ^thout  priest  or  friend,  came  on  Monday.  We 
have  just  'returned  fW>m  a  visit  to  his  poor  little  widow.  I  never  wit- 
nessed such  a  scene ;  she  seems  nearly  deranged,  and  her  mother  almost 
as  bad.  They  say  he  was  so  good  and  amiable.  The  nor-  Sisters  here 
are  as  sorrowful  as  they  can  be — a  quiet,  silent  sorrow,  ,i  course.  I  suppose 
you  heard  of  Father  Carroll's  death.  Since  it  was  the  holy  will  of  God 
to  call  Mm,  there  is  every  reason  to  rejoice  in  the  pity  and  mercy  which 
rescued  him  from  sudden  death  and  protracted  decline.  Dr.  Crompton 
said  he  would  linger  some  months.  His  death  is  considered  a  happy 
one,  and  if  so,  that  his  journey  should  be  shortened  is  a  blessing  indeed. 

Many  circumstances  unite  to  keep  me  from  you.  It  would  not  do  well 
to  desert  the  poor  old  House  just  now.    My  poor  James  and  Robert  are 

gone  from  mo.    My  poor  Sister  Teresa  C in  the  same  state.    How 

little  we  thought  she  would  see  our  dear  Father  Cu  roll  gone.  He  was 
most  anxious  aboufher  latterly.  I  have  been  so  much  interrupted  with 
inquiiies  about "  OeraUtiru,"  that  this  will  not  be  in  time  for  the  post. 

XDL 

St.  Mart's,  January  80,  1889. 
Thank  Qod,  you  are  all  safe  after  the  storm.  The  accounts  from 
Limerick  were  as  usual  much  exaggerated ;  but  we  heard  the  convent 
was  safe.  We  remained  in  our  cells  all  night — some  in  a  tremor,  other* 
sleepinir.  The  morning  presented  an  altered  scene  indeed.  The  com- 
munity-room a  complete  ruin  in  app^rance,  though  not  much  ii\jured  in 


mtm 


484 


APPENDIX. 


reality.  The  prints  and  pictures  all  on  the  ground — only  two  broken ; 
the  maps  and  blinds  flying  like  the  sails  of  a  ship ;  the  bookstand  down, 
the  cabinet  removed  from  its  place,  and  the  chairs  all  upset;  sixteen 
panes  of  glass  broken,  and  such  a  body  of  air  in  the  room  that  we  could 
scarcely  stand.  The  windows  are  still  boarded  up.  It  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  get  a  glazier.  Several  houses  were  blown  down,  and  many  lives 
lost ;  your  friends  and  Sister  M.  Vincent's  are  safe.  The  Sisters  in 
Carlow  passed  the  night  in  the  choir ;  part  of  their  very  old  roof  blown 
down ;  the  beautiful  Cathedral  much  injured.  The  chimneys  of  the 
new  convent  in  Tullamore  were  blown  down ;  the  old  one  and  the 
Sisters  safe,  thank  Qod. 

XX. 

St.  Maiit's,  January  80, 1840. 

As  to  the  application  to  Rome,  I  did  exactly  what  was  marked  out  for 
me — a  petition  firom  the  Mother  House,  a  memorial  from  the  Archbishop 
of  Dublin,  praying  a  Confirmation  of  the  Rales  to  which  his  Approbation 
is  attached ;  letters  of  recommendation  from  the  Bishops  in  whose  dio- 
ceses branches  of  the  Order  are  established.  This  has  been  fully  ex- 
ecuted. The  episcopal  letters  were  as  favorable  as  possible.  I  am  sure 
very  Rev.  Father  Maher  is  sufiBciently  interested  in  ua  to  do  all  in  his 
power.  I  think  a  private  letter  to  his  nephew  in  Rome  would  have  more 
effect  than  one  ol^ta'asd  through  influence,  and  I  am  certain  he  has  done 
whatever  he  thought  likely  to  promote  success. 

I  had  a  long  letter  from  Sister  M.  Josephine.  She  says :  Sister  M. 
iip^ncis  is  in  deep  decline ;  only  for  this  we  should  be  too  happy.  Our 
House  of  Mercy  is  opened ;  all  our  debts  are  paid,  though  the  addition 
cost  five  hundred  pounds.  The  day  we  conmienced,  our  dear  Bishop 
Murphy  gave  us  fifty  pounds.  He  is  delighted  to  see  the  poor  young 
women  protected.    I  think  this  is  the  best  branch  of  our  Institute. 


-...  ':■=..-.,•:•    i    ■  XXL     "  ■    .    . 

;-       '    .^  '        ;  ^    "  Not  fit  to  appear." 

Perplexed  and  weary — out  of  conceit  with  everything,  I  sit  down  to 
talk  with  my  dear  old  companion  and  affectionate  child.  Your  letter  was 
read  again  and  again,  as  a  solace  which  Qod  sent  me.  To  hear  you  were 
recovering  was  the  happiest  communication  I  could  receive,  though  I 
did  not  for  a  moment  lot  myself  think  otherwise.    Our  dear  Sister  Teresa 

G continues  most  delicate— the  least  breeee  brings  a  return  of  the 

oougL.  She  is  to  try  Booterstown  next  week,  provided  there  is  no  blast. 
You  would  be  surprised  to  see  how  anxious  Father  O'Hanlon  is  about 
her.  Ho  has  just  lost  his  own  favorite  sister  by  decline,  and  he  notices 
the  change  in  my  iwor  Teresa  from  week  to  week. 

A  parcel  came  for  Sister  Catherine.    The  books  not  fit  for  her  present 


md— odIj  two  broken  j 
the  bookstand  down, 
iira  all  upset;  sixteen 
bhe  room  that  we  could 
ip.    It  is  almost  impoe- 

down,  and  manj  lives 

safe.     The  Sisters  in 

elr  very  old  roof  blown 

The  chimneys  of  the 

the  old  one  and  the 


ry's,  Januory  80, 1840. 

hat  was  marked  out  for 

ial  from  the  Archbishop 

which  his  Approbation 

e  Bishops  in  whose  die- 

This  has  been  fully  cx- 

as  possible,  I  am  sure 
i  in  us  to  do  all  in  his 
I  Rome  would  have  more 
[  am  certain  he  has  done 

B.  She  says :  Sister  M. 
uld  be  too  happy.  Our 
dd,  though  the  addition 
tenced,  our  dear  Bishop 
to  see  the  poor  young 
h  of  our  Institute. 


'^erything,  I  sit  down  to 
B  child.  Tour  letter  was 
me.  To  hear  you  were 
could  receive,  though  I 
Our  dear  Sister  Teresa 
I  brings  a  return  of  the 
ovided  there  is  no  blast, 
ither  O'Hanlou  is  about 
decline,  and  he  notices 
k. 
B  not  fit  for  her  present 


" 


APPENDIX. 


485 


slate— some  very  objectionable  poetry.  When  I  take  that  out,  I  irill 
send  the  rest,  which  is  amusing.  The  »ugar-»tiek»  are  for  her.  Tell  all  the 
dear  children  I  feel  most  grateful  for  their  kind  notes,  and  will  soon  reply. 

Poor  Sister  M.  Frances  goes  on  the  same  hopeless  way.  Most  melan- 
clioly  are  their  protracted  maladies — six  fevers  would,  in  my  opinion,  be 
preferable.  But  Qod's  holy  will  be  done  in  all  things — may  Ho  never 
leave  the  choice  to  uk  We  cannot  be  unhappy  while  we  love  and  serve 
Him  faithfully. 

Sister  M.  Teresa  and  I  felt  disappointed  that  Father  Maher  did  not 
cell  to  see  us  when  in  town.  Bemember  as  most  respctfully  to  him, 
find  to  all  the  kind  fathers. 

xxn. 

Gat.wat,  Juno  80,  1840. 

I  enclosed  your  letter  relative  to  Sister  M.  Aloysia.  Dr.  Gorrigan 
thinks  Booterstown  air  as  good  as  any  other  for  her.    She  is  gone  there. 

You  may  judge  how  poor  Sister  Mary  Anne  feels  at  being  obligbd  to 
iedine  Fatlier  Mathew's  offer  to  preach  at  the  ceremony.  The  Bishop 
would  think  it  imprudent  to  excite  the  distillers  just  now.  I  suppose 
he  hopes  the  good  work  of  temperance  may  go  on  quiuUy.  It  was  a  little 
presuming,  but  we  are  certain  her  intention  was  pure.  She  writes,  "  It 
was  too  much  for  rae  to  ask." 

Thank  God,  the  Sisters  here  are  very  comfortable  before  I  leave  them. 
I  had  a  letter  from  London.  Bishop  Murphy  has  written  to  Sister  M. 
Clare  to  .iy  he  will  go  for  her  in  August,  though  ho  adds,  "  your  place 
here  is  well  supplied."  The  Bishop  of  London  wishes  her  to  stay  an- 
other year.  "  Let  their  Lordships  settle  it  between  them,"  she  says,  "  I 
feel  no  anxiety."  .;  .         ■  ,      , 

xxm. 

St.  Mary's,  Baooot-stwekt,  July  8,  1840. 
Such  a  number  of  persons  to  be  instruotod  in  Kingstown  that  wo  have 
not  seats  for  them.    All  the  delicate  flock  in  Booterstown,  excep*  my 

poor  Sister  Teresa  C ,  who  clings  to  her  charitable  employment.    I 

wish  very  much  Sister  Aloysia  was  in  Carlow  for  a  while.  She  does  not 
improve  much.  Her  loss  would  be  felt  indeed.  She  is  so  much  beloved 
by  all.  After  retreat  I  will  urge  her  going.  She  is  afraid  of  giving  trouble, 
though  indeed  she  never  gives  any  that  could  be  avoided.  In  her  pre- 
sent state  she  requires  assistance. 

XXIV.    ■  •*■'  ■ 

DcBLiw,  Angnst,  1840. 

I  am  quite  uneasy  at  not  getting  a  few  lines  to  say  how  our  dear  Sister 

M.  Aloysia  is.    Mother  Dl  Pazzl  thinks  sho  is  confined  to  l>ed,  and  that 

you  wait  till  she  is  better.    I  trust  in  Qod  it  is  not  so.    Will  you  tell  me 

how  she  is,  and  if  her  appetito  is  improving.    All  well  here,  making 


t 


486 


APPENDIX. 


great  resolutions  to  profit  of  the  excellent  instmcJom  we  leoeiTed  in 
retreat. 

Very  Rev.  Dr.  Butler  has  arrived  here  to  conduct  Sisters  M.  Xavier 
and  De  Sales  to  London.  His  health  is  so  bad  that  he  is  ^uite  impatient 
to  return  lest  the  weather  should  change.  He  is  in  great  trouble  lest 
the  Irish  air  should  disagree  with  him.  Poor  man,  he  is  in  a  very  pre- 
carious state.  It  is  providential  I  do  not  go  to  Caffl>w,  lest  I  should  be 
tempted  to  take  Sister  Aloysius  away.  Mother  Di  Pazzi  is  anxiood  for 
her  return.  Father  O'Hanlon  desires  me  positively  not  to  think  of  it. 
This  month  will  be  most  useful  to  her.  We  are  scattering  our  nice  pro- 
fessed. Sister  M.  Teresa,  the  Less,  we  left  in  Limerick,  almost  native  air. 
She  has  evident  signs  of  deep  enlargement  of  the  liver.  The  Bishop  of 
Limerick  knows  her  mamma,  and  was  quite  pleased  at  her  being  left. 

Our  postulants'  white  satin  dresses  were  cut  up  for  copes,  etc.  The 
convent  was  crowded  after  the  ceremony — all  anxious  to  see  Father 
Mathew.    The  young  ladies'  families  would  do  anything  for  religion. 

,1       .-.(-.•  .,     ?-,v     XXV. 
"  ,-       .....  St.  Mary's,  October  2fl,  1840. 

Thank  God,  I  am  at  rest  again.  I  think  the  name  of  another  Foundiu 
tion  would  make  me  sick,  but  the  Sisters  say  I  would  get  up  again.  In- 
d  '7d,  the  thought  of  one  at  present  would  greatly  distress  me.  On  the 
late  occasion  I  travelled  a  hundred  miles  a  d<Ly,  which  is  very  fatiguing 
except  on  railroads.  Poor  Dr.  Fitzgerald  is  much  altered,  but  looks  bet- 
ter than  I  expected.  His  mind  seems  as  sound  as  ever.  He  saye  our 
Englieh  Sisters  are  not  at  all  to  be  compared  to  his  Sisters  in  Carlow. 

I  feel  quite  an^dous  to  do  any  thing  in  my  power  to  forward  the  pious 

wishes  of  Miss  M .    I  rejoice  in  seeing  a  good  Sister  added  to  our 

Order  anywhere,  but  I  would  think  it  imprudent  to  press  what  Father 
Croko  is  opposed  to.  He  never  took  more  interest  than  he  does  now.  It 
is  most  fortunate,  and  a  blessing,  indeed,  that  he  takes  the  part  of  a  guar- 
dian in  full  authority.  I  forget  the  lady,  but  if  she  is  nice,  I  think  they 
would  take  her  in  Galway,  provided  what  is  promised  be  secured. 
Father  Daly  requires  that.  If  she  is  plain,  she  would  not  be  acceptable 
there.  He  would  not  admit  a  County  Qalway  person  on  the  same  terms,* 
but  from  a  quarter  where  it  will  not  be  known,  I  think  I  can  induce  him 
to  take  her.  Yon  would  not  bring  discredit  on  me  with  him,  and  if  the 
Uttle  creature  is  too  plain,  you  will  tell  me,  I  know. 

Sister  M.  Aloysia  must  soon  try  what  she  can  do,  so  tell  her  to  prepare, 
as  she  says  she  is  quite  well.  Nothing  more  likely  to  keep  her  so  than 
reasonable  occupation  of  mind  and  body.  She  has  got  petting  enough 
for  one  season.    I  believe  we  are  retiring  from  business — no  postulantt 


With  less  fortune  than  £800. 


APPENDIX. 


487 


jicJona  yre  leoeiTed  In 

uct  Sisters  M.  Xavier 

!t  he  is  quite  impatient 

in  great  trouble  lest 

he  is  in  a  very  pre- 

iTOw,  lest  I  should  be 

Fazzi  is  anxioud  for 

ely  not  to  think  of  it. 

cattering  our  nice  pro- 

irick,  almost  native  air. 

liver.    The  Bishop  of 

ed  at  her  being  left. 

up  for  copes,  etc.    Tlie 

mxious  to  see  Father 

lything  for  religion. 

by's,  October  2fl,  1840. 
me  of  another  Foundiu 
9uld  get  up  again.  In- 
ly distress  me.  On  the 
which  is  very  fatiguing 
I  altered,  but  looks  bet- 
as ever.  He  says  our 
is  Sisters  in  Carlow. 
er  to  forward  the  pions 
lod  Sister  added  to  our 
t  to  press  what  Father 
t  tluin  ho  does  now.  It 
akes  the  part  of  a  guar- 
he  is  nice,  I  think  they 

promised  be  secured, 
juld  not  be  acceptable 
ion  on  the  same  terms,* 
think  I  can  induce  him 
le  with  him,  and  if  the 
w. 

>,  so  tell  her  to  prepare, 
ly  to  keep  her  so  than 
M  g^t  petting  enough 
usiness— no  postulants 


on  the  way.    When  onr  sweet  English  Sisters  go,  we  shall  have  plenty 
of  vacant  cells.    Perhaps  some  may  bo  thinking  of  us.    Whatever  Qod 


The  Apostle  of  Temperance  will  be  in  town  till  Wednesday ;  until 
then  I  must  remain.  I  will  bring  one  of  onr  English  novices,  who  has 
that  kind  of  cough  ttAt  a  little  change  of  air  removes.  She  has  it  rather 
too  long,  bat  is  otherwiae  in  good  health. 


XXVL  • 

St.  Mart's,  December,  1840. 

As  usual,  Sisters  drop  in  here  out  of  the  sky.  Two  have  concluded  to 
enter  on  the  Immaculate  Conception,  and  three  on  the  Octave.  O'Con 
ncll's  speeches  have  brought  ns  into  fiishion. 

There  cannot  be  any  objection  to  your  wearing  cashmere  cloaks,  if 
you  prefer  them.  I  believe  the  Sisters  everywhere  think  they  look  more 
religious.  It  would  be  difficult  to  preserve  them  in  winter ;  the  frequent 
cleansing  in  Dublin  would  soon  make  them  look  badly. 

The  first  prayer  I  offered  on  my  arrival,  was  to  return  most  grateful 
thanks  to  Qod  for  the  sweet,  heavenly  consolation  I  received  in  my  visit 
to  Carlow,  and  Implore  His  blessing  and  gracious  protection  for  those 
who  have  been  so  instrumental  in  bringing  that  brauch  to  its  present 
flourishing  and  happy  state.  My  anxiety  about  the  opening  in  Wexford' 
increases  every  hour.  Commence  the  visitation  of  the  sick  as  soon  as 
possible.  Let  four  go  out  at  a  time,  and  do  not  let  the  least  difference 
appear  in  dress,  shape  of  bonnet,  etc.  They  are  so  long  expected,  that 
every  eye  will  be  tamed  on  them,  and  tehile  we  place  all  our  eonfldenee 
in  God,  tee  mvM  always  aetaaifaU  depended  on  our  own  exertions.  Get 
Father  Maher  to  preach  at  the  profession,  and  beg  of  him  to  assist  you 
in  forming  this  new  branch — a  good  beginning  is  of  great  importance.  I 
sincerely  hope  Father  Lacy  will  not  famish  the  convent  in  a  worldly 
style.    A  few  days  since  I  heard  "  the  fashions  of  N "  spoken  of. 

Sister  M.  Teresa,  the  Lete,*  is  on  her  way  from  Limerick.  I  am  dis- 
tressed to  find  the  good  parish  priest  taking  the  trouble  to  accompany 
her,  at  such  a  busy  season.    A  thousand  loves  to  all. 

xxvn. 

St.  Mart's,  December,  1810. 
From  what  yoa  say  of  the  Orphan  House,  in  Wexford,  I  should  think 
it  quite  suitable.  I  recollect  on^  of  the  objections  started  here  was,  that 
the  engraved  stone,  with  "  Orphan  House,"  could  not  be  removed,  and 
that  the  Sisters  might  be  regarded  as  matrons  of  the  establishment 
This,  I  think,  could  never  be.    I  am  certain  the  title  would  be  changed 

•  Tb«re  were  ao  many  Slaten  of  tbe  ntme  ofTereu,  that  Mother  HoAnley  dlattnguisbM 
them,  sometlmw  by  their  leoolar  namee,  and  aometimea  by  their  stature,  as  abova. 


•^^mi^fffnKifmmffm 


488 


APPENDIX. 


immediately,  whatever  stone  was  up.  You  migbt  propose  having  "In- 
Btitntion  of  Mercy"  substituted,  as  some  public  tribute  is  necessary  to  the 
memory  of  the  l>enefactors. 

We  got  another  Sister  this  morning — a  nice  little  creature — (light 
purse).  I  am  fonder  of  Sister  M.  Aloysius,  since  she  came  home,  tlian 
ever  I  was ;  she  shows  such  affectionate  gratitude  for  your  liindness  to  her. 

I  wish  Sister  N had  gone  to  Naas,  but  now  she  would  not  think 

of  it.    God  forbid  tliat  I  should  ever  get  a  Sister  by  disappointing  the 

hopes  of  another  House.    Do  not  speak  to  Sister  M.  J of  her  letter, 

which  I  enclose.  She  would  reasonably  conclude  it  was  not  sent  as  a 
mark  of  approbation ;  but  I  think  it  well  to  let  you  I'now  that  Mr.  and 

tin.  B are  her  agents  In  endeavoring  to  procure  subjects.    You 

might  say  that  I  was  mortified  on  hearing  that  Mrs.  B promised  to 

bring  the  Sister  ir.  question,  and  that  «A«  acceded  without  taking  any 
part.  This  is  disedifying,  and  will  create  much  talk.  Father  Ilume 
was  here  to-day.    I  pressed  the  Sister  to  go  to  Naas,  but  she  would  not 

consent.    Did  you  ever  hear  such  a  strange  proceeding  ?    Sister  M.  J 

will  never  advance  the  good  work  this  way. 

The  truly  charitable  Mr.  Dcvereux  was  so  kind  as  to  call  on  us,  and, 
as  usual,  it  was  not  a  mere  visit  of  compliment.    He  always  brings  what 

fiister  Teresa  C calls  "  good  luck."   O'Connell  came  next  day  with  ten 

pounds  for  the  poor,  and  an  unknown  benefactor  with  five.  We  remark 
something  of  this  kiud  always  after  Mr.  Devereux,  of  Wexford,  visits  us. 

I  had  a  strong  remonstrance  from  Dr.  Butler,  of  London,  about  the 
new  branches  being  dedicated  under  any  other  title  than  that  of  "  Of  our 
Lady  of  Mercy."  Ho  says :  "  The  Order  will  in  time  degenerate  if  this 
is  let  to  pass.  We  shall  soon  seek  in  vain  for  a  convent  of  Sisters  of 
Mercy."  If  he  hears  of  the  Orphan  House  I  will  get  another  lecture. 
His  pious  pride  is  quite  wounded.*  Bishop  Fleming  is  or^ng  the  New- 
foundland mission.  We  announced  that  whoever  could  do  without  milk 
in  her  tea  should  go  there,  and  M.  Di  Fazzi  has  so  for  offered  herself  an 
efficient  candidate. 

xxvin. 

Convent,  BafTKot-street. 

I  am  most  anxious  to  hear  of  the  dear  Sister  in  fever ;  please  God,  it 

will  not  end  in  death.    Father  O'Hanlon  will  expect  me  to  let  him  know. 

His  care  and  anxiety  for  us  aU  increase  every  day.    He  said,  v^esterday, 

•'  This  is  my  fourteenth  year  among  you."    Sister  Mary  C is  a  char- 


*  Dr.  Butler  was  s  flrm  friend  and  liberal  benefactor  to  the  rlaing  Order.  He  did  not 
visli  that  new  Housea  should  bo  dedicated  under  any  title  but  that  of  "  Oar  Lady  of  if«(^ 
oy,"  but  this  Mother  MoAulej  left  to  the  Sitters  who  founded  them.  He  was  opposed  to 
pension  day-schools,  and  wanted  the  Foundress  to  Insert  a  clause  against  them  In  her  Rule. 
But  In  this  she  did  not  yield  to  him,  as  the  poor  migbt  be  benefited,  directly  or  Indirectly, 
by  those  schools :  and  the  authorities  who  conSrmed  the  Rule  were  aware  that  tlipse  day- 
■ehoola  were  established  In  Carlow,  Cork,  Qalway, etc,  and  yet  made  no  ni Jrciicni  lo  tlicni. 


APPENDIX. 


489 


propoae  having  "In- 
te  is  necessaiy  to  the 

tile  creature — (light 
16  came  home,  than 
rour  liindness  to  her. 
he  would  not  think 
f  disappointing  the 

J of  her  letter, 

t  was  not  sent  as  a 

l-now  that  Mr.  and 
!ure  subjects.    You 

B promised  to 

(rithout  taking  any 
Uk.  Father  Hume 
,  but  she  would  not 
g?    Sister  M.J 

to  call  on  us,  and, 
always  brings  what 
le  next  day  with  ten 
I  five.  We  remark 
Wexford,  visits  us. 
London,  about  the 
lan  that  of  "  Of  our 
degenerate  if  this 
ivent  of  Sistcra  of 
Bt  another  lecture. 
is  urging  the  New- 
Id  do  without  milk 
ofiered  herself  an 

INT,  Bnjrgot-street. 
rer;  please  God,  it 
le  to  let  him  know. 
He  said,  Yesterday, 
ry  C is  a  char- 
ing Order.  He  did  not 
if  "  Our  Lady  qf  Mer- 
I.  }le  was  opposed  to 
Unat  them  In  her  Rule. 
directly  or  Indirently, 
•ware  that  tlipse  day- 
no  oljccllon  to  them. 


•eter  not  suited  to  my  ability  to  govern,  though  possessing  many  most 
estimable  qualities.  She  teased  and  perplexed  me  so  much  alx>ut  the 
ditficulty  of  copying  the  two  pages,  that  I  was  really  obliged  to  give  up, 
unwilling  to  commiMid  lest  it  should  produce  disedifying  con8tM|uences. 
She  said  it  would  take  the  whole  Lent.  Slie  is  very  slow  ;  you  can  have 
no  idea  how  little  she  does  in  a  week — as  to  a  day's  work,  it  is  laugh, 
able.  She  will  sometimes  show  me  three  leaves,  saying,  "  I  finished  these 
to-day."    Three  rose  or  lily  leaves  !* 

'  The  little  girl  I  wrote  about  annoyed  me  somewhat.  She  let  her  mar- 
ried sister  till  Wednesday,  when  both  called.  She  did  not  like  to  go  to 
Wexford ;  uud  the  very  reason  her  sister  had  for  desiring  it,  was  the 
chief  cause  of  her  objection — a  long  connexion  of  her  brother-in-law's. 
She  is  not  half  alive,  and  wishes  to  hide  her  little  head.  I  really  scolded 
her.  I  told  her  it  was  no  matter  the  Wexford  Superioress  and  myself 
had  the  trouble  of  writing,  but  it  was  quite  too  bad  that  the  Bishop 
should  have  been  spoken  to.  She  has  the  holy  art  of  keeping  custody  of 
the  eyes,  for  she  seldom  opens  them.  She  applied  to  come  here,  but  her 
means  not  being  suflScient,  I  declined.  Her  sister  now  says  she  will 
forego  some  portion  of  her  own  property  to  get  h^  settled  here — her 
husband  being  wi'ling  she  should  do  so.  U  it  is  arranged,  I  taall  havs  a 
nice  task  opening  the  eyes  of  the  little  recluse.  I  shall  have  all  the  talk, 
however,  for  she  is  as  meek  as  a  dove.  I  did  hope  she  would  have 
fancied  poor  Birr,  which  I  represented  as  it  deserves,  but  carefully 
avoided  recommending  any  in  particular.  I  think  a  little  girl  wou't  give 
me  BO  much  to  do  in  future.  I  read  the  whole  of  Father  Maher's  sermon 
for  the  Sisters,  so  you  may  say  my  lungs  are  good  yet ;  it  is  spoken  of  as 
an  excellent  explanation  of  the  two  states,  and  is  equally  instructiTO 

toboth.  ■■■:_.-■'.  /  ,  ,    » 

XXIX. 

8t.  John's,  BntR,  February  14, 1811, 
What  comfort  it  gives  me  to  hear  of  your  continued  happiness  in  Gal- 
way.  I  could  not  express  the  gratitude  I  feel  for  the  parish  priest's 
afiectionate  kindness  to  you  all ;  and,  next  to  the  glory  given  to  God,  I 
rejoice  that  his  expectations  have  not  been  disappointed.  Your  little  In- 
stitute is  much  spoken  of.    Please  God,  one  yt.^ur  will  forward  it  greatly. 

XXX.       "    ^^  '^-'v 

St.  Mabt's,  Baooot-btrekt,  February,  1841. 
I  have  just  received  your  letter,  and  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  are  going 

*  A  day's  work,  in  eoDventaal  parlanoe,  means  the  work  one  does  at  the  leoturc*  and 
recreations— the  rest  of  the  time  being  generally  oconpled  by  the  duties  of  the  Instltuta. 
Though  the  Fonndreia  could  draw  ground-pIaoN  etc.,  the  was  evidently  no  artist,  else  sh« 
would  not  blame  her  spiritual  daughter's  slowness.  Even  three  rose  or  Illy  leavys  Is  not  so 
little,  If  well  done,  for  a  conventna'  day's  work.    Good  artlsU  arc  slow, 

21 


^m 


m 


Vi 


,.-f::hm 


-im' 


APPENDIX. 


to  Wexfurd.  I  often  meditated  writing  a  petition  to  Bishop  Haly  to  that 
efibct,  bat  was  afraid  of  being  a  busybody.  I  liave  found  a  second  visit 
to  a  branch  exceedingly  useful — not  for  wliat  wo  can  say  or  do,  for  our 
esi>ericnce  in  lieligious  life  has  been  so  short,  tliat  a  good,  fait'.iful  Sister, 
to  whom  Uod  has  imparted  grace,  may  be  said  to  know  as  much  of  the 
spiritual  life  as  we.  Yet  it  is  most  useful  to  give  ussistance  for  some 
time.  It  animates  beginners,  and  gives  confidence  to  others.  I  have 
been  told  that  it  made  parents  and  guardians  give  countenance,  and  say 
that  they  could  not  fear  failure  where  such  attention  was  given,  not  only 
by  their  own  Bishop,  but  also  by  the  Bishop  from  whose  diocese  the 
Sisters  came.  It  bespeaks  a  warm  interest  in  the  success  of  the  new 
branch,  and  will  be  found  conducive  thereto.  It  was  not  thought  we 
could  succeed  in  Galway,  where  there  were  five  old-established  nunneries. 
On  oar  second  visit,  Bishop  Browne  said,  from  the  altar:  "It  is  impos- 
sible that  the  Order  of  Mercy  should  fail^  where  such  unity  and  such 
affectionate  interest  are  maintained,  as  bring  its  members  hundreds  of 
miles  to  encourage  and  aid  one  another.  It  is  their  established  practice 
to  look  after  what  has  been  newly  commenced."  Several  persons  told 
me  that  these  words  were  more  usefiil  to  us  than  I  could  suppose.  We 
were  thinking  of  each  other  just  at  the  same  time.  I  got  your  letter  the 
day  you  got  mine. 

I  am  surprised  that  some  Sisters  have  added  our  name  to  their  own ; 
but,  as  I  hear  "  the  affiur  of  honor"  will  be  settled  ^j  Y«irj  Bev.  Mr. 
Maher,  I  refrain  from  all  further  remaika.        .  .  r>,j|,gj/  7,.5^r.¥^f 


BAeooT-STBUT,  liny,  1841. 

Sister  M.  Cedlia  is  better,  but  still  very  weak,  getting  exactly  the  same 
treatment  as  you  g^ve  Sister  M.  Aloysios.  She  writes :  "  I  can  eat,  drink, 
sleep,  and  pray,  orly  as  directed,  and  seeing  that  each  of  us  cannot  have 
her  own  way,  I  seek  refuge  in  sabmissiun,"  We  have  got  a  darling 
little  Sistet,  granddaughter  to  Dr.  Furlong.  Though  she  has  been  a 
constant  visitor  for  two  years,  I  did  not  think  she  was  what  I  find  her. 
I  am  agreeably  surprised  in  her.  I  have  called  her  the  Queen  of  the 
Order — she  is  just  her  miyesty's  size  and  age.  K  ever  a  human  being 
was  formed  without  gall,  it  is  she.  The  other  little  one  is  coming  to  life, 
and  we  get  a  third  from  England  soon.  These  would  not  do  for  founda- 
tions.   You  could  not  avoid  making  a  pet  of  Sister  D ,  she  is  such  a 

dovelike  creature.  The  Sisters  in  Wexford  are  to  get  the  Parochial 
House.  Mr.  Devereux  gave  eighty  pounds  towards  preparing  it  for  them. 
God  will  ever  bless  him. 

Thanks  for  the  nice  picture  of  St.  Catherine.  We  had  no  folly  here 
on  her  day,  so  many  in  retreat — indeed,  I  was  very  glad.    Lady  Barbara 


APPENDIX. 


491 


0  Bishop  Haly  to  that 

1  found  a  second  visit 
an  say  or  do,  for  our 
I  good,  fait'.iful  Sister, 
mow  as  much  of  the 
3  iissistance  for  some 
e  to  others.  I  have 
Mtimtenance,  and  say 
a  was  given,  not  only 
n  whose  diocese  the 
e  success  of  the  new 
was  not  thought  we 
established  uanneries. 
3  altar:  "Itis  impos- 
sach  unity  and  such 
nembers  hundreds  of 
r  established  practice 
Several  persons  told 
could  suppose.  We 
I  got  your  letter  the 

r  name  to  their  own  ; 
id  by  Veiy  Rev.  Mr. 


OT-sntUT,  liny,  1841. 
iting  exactly  the  same 
es:  "  I  can  eat,  drink, 
«h  of  uB  cannot  have 
I  have  got  a  darling 
lugh  she  has  been  a 
was  what  I  find  her. 
ler  the  Queen  of  the 
Bver  a  human  being 
one  is  coming  to  life, 
dd  not  do  for  founda- 

■  D ,  she  is  such  a 

o  get  the  Parochial 
preparing  it  for  them. 

Ve  had  no  folly  here 
glad.    Lady  Barbara 


Ayr  Is  fixed  at  last,  an  humble  Sisier  of  Mercy.  She  is  the  first  titled 
ludy  that  became  a  nun  in  England  for  centuries.  There  have  been  hon- 
orables,  but  not  an  earl's  daughter.  .  :    » 

'       .  ■  ~r  -  XXXII. 

St.  Mabts,  Muy  28,  1841. 

Ood  has  sent  you  an  affliction ;  bat  rest  assured  Ho  will  send  you  some 
•distinguished  consolation.  Tou  remember  what  Father  Qafihey  said  to 
us  in  retreat :  "  If  the  entire  cross  upon  which  Jesus  died  was  sent  to  this 
house,  how  eager  would  each  Sister  be  to  carry  it ;  and  she  who  was 
permitted  to  keep  it  longest,  would  be  esteemed  the  most  favored.  Far 
better  and  more  profitable  to  receive  with  all  your  heart,  the  cross  which 
God  sends  you  in  any  shape  or  form  he  pleases."  I  earnestly  hope  yon 
will  receive  this  trial,  so  as  to  make  it  valuable  to  you. 

Bernard  Kavanagh  called  here  lately,  aud  asked  to  see  the  nuns.  Sis- 
ter Magdalen  appeared.    The  following  dialogue  took  place : 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Bernard  Kavanagh  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  What  did  you  hear  of  him  ?    What  do  the  public  say  of  him?" 

"  We  know  very  little  of  public  opinion." 

"Would  you  like  to  see  him?"  " 

"  I  am  not  very  anxious."  '• 

"  I  am  Bernard  Kavanagh."* 

He  asked  to  see  the  schools,  and  said  many  spiritual  thijigs.  He  is 
thin,  but  not  wasted  ;  features  good,  but  expression  of  countenance  weak 
and  simple,  or  foolish.  Father  Mathew  says  he  is  not  an  impostor,  but  a 
lunatic. 

The  Bishop  of  Killaloe  went  through  the  ceremony  as  if  he  performed 
it  every  week.  He  is  a  nice  celebrant,  and  very  kind  and  pleasing.  The 
Apostle  received  thousands  into  the  Temperance  Society.  When  the 
people  surround  him,  he  has  a  most  plaintive  way  of  saying,  "  Ah !  don't 
pull  me,  please." 

xxxm. 

..    ■•  ;>  .  St.  Maby's,  June  19, 1841. 

Our  old  beloved  companion,  Sister  M.  Clare,  leaves  this  on  Monday,  ao- 
companied  by  V.  R.  Dr.  Butler,  who  goes  to  Carlow,  on  Dr.  Taylor's  in- 
vitation.' ffister  avails  herself  of  this  opportunity  of  visiting  you.  The 
house  in  London  is,  thank  Ood,  well  established,  I  am  qi^te  renovated 
by  a  delightful  addition  to  the  flock,  a  sweet  Scotch  Sister,  we  got  through 
Mrs.  Captain  Osborn,  a  Sootph  lady,  who  goes  to  Edinburgh  every  year. 
The  variety  of  accent  at  recreation  is  now  quite  amusing.    We  get  a 

•  Bernard  Kavanagh  created  maoh  exoitement  at  that  time,  by  maintaining  ho  could  live 
without  food.    He  belonged  to  a  town  In  Mayo,  which  bears  the  unpoctio  name  of  Swlnford. 


i 


492 


APPENDIX. 


niece  of  the  AiclibiBlicyB  on  Wednesday,  danghterto  his  favorite  brother. 
I  was  delighted  to  hear  from  Father  O'Hanlon  that  you  had  grand  break- 
fast for  the  LiBKRATOB*  Wo  are  constantly  hearing  of  the  Carlow  elec- 
tion, a^id  've  cannot  forget  to  say :  "  God  bless  and  protect  Father  Maher." 
We  expect  Bishop  Walsh,  of  Birmingham,  to  come  to  Ireland  to  receive 
his  spiritual  children,  and  profess  some  of  ♦hem.  Dr.  Wiseman  is  to 
preach.  It  is  impossible  that  more  interest  could  be  manifested  than  there 
is  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel.  May  God  bring  us  through  this 
business.    His  divine  help  alone  can. 

As  we  shall  want  all  our  little  exhibitions,  I  hope  you  will  send  the 
Register.!  I  felt  a  great  want  in  not  having  it  to  show  to  Dr.  Pusey,  the 
Hebrew  Professor  at  Oxford,  who  spoke  much  of  illuminated  works. 
These  little  afiairs  are  a  good  fill  up,  and  spare  the  trouble  of  talking 
much.  - .  .,.   .  .il 

xxxrv, 

St.  Maiit'b,  July,  1841. 

A  fe'v  days  before  V,  R  Dr.  Touen?  came  to  Ireland,  Sister  Fanny  had 
a  letter  from  her  Bishop,  Dr.  Brown,  who  wishes  to  mako  arrangemrints 
here  for  the  Liverpool  foundation.  Dr.  Youens  is  so  anxious,  that  it  is  a 
pity  to  have  any  impedimei:t.    He  is  endeavoring  to  get  more  ladies  to 

come  here  for  preparation.    Sister  G would  join  at  once.    She  is  a 

treasure— a  sweet,  docile,  animated  creature— all  alive  and  delighted  with 
her  duties.  Sister  Cecilia,  you  know,  is  a  general  favorite.  This  morn- 
ing, the  sweet  little  Scotch  sister  said  to  me :  "What  shall  I  do  when 
Mother  Cecilia  is  gone  ?"  I  am  so  much  confined  to  one  room,  that  they 
seldom  see  me  till  recreation. 

Sister  Juliana's  father  is  in  a  dying  state,  and  hor  family  presring  hor 
return.  We  hope  they  will  not  hrve  much  more  delay.  Speaking  does 
not  injure  me ;  I  have  been  giving  the  novices  Instructions  daily  for  more 
than  a  month.  Thanks  to  God,  they  loye  instruction,  and  are  most  anx- 
ions  to  profit  by  it. 

Poor  Sister  Justina,  a  fine  young  creature,  has  every  symptom  of  decUne- 
If  possible,  1  will  get  her  to  go  home  for  a  while ;  she  would  have  more 
chance  of  recovery.    Dr.  Stokes  is  attending  her,  at  her  father's  request. 

Sister  M.  de  Sales  (Lady  Ayr)  is  now  quite  strong,  and  alio  to  virit  the 
sick.  Miss  Kelly  is  about  to  join  them.  Shu  takes  her  "dear  Jane's"  cell. 
I  am  sure  they  will  go  on  in  Bermondsey  now.    May  God  bloic  you  all." 

«  O'Connell  w«b  elected  iPSUiber  of  ParlUmont  for  Carlow,  1841.  Every  morning  durirg 
the  election  he  MsUted  ttlfua,  and  received  Holy  Commnnlon  In  tbe  chapel  of  tlie  Con- 
vent of  Mercy,  after  which  he  honored  tbe  Bisters  by  remaining  for  l.reakftist 

t  The  Keglster,  In  conventual  parlance,  menns  a  large  book,  In  which  are  written  or 
printed  the  names  of  the  Sisters,  of  their  parents,  and  other  particulars.  That  of  Baggot- 
street  is  exquisitely  llluinlnated-a  perfect  K«ai.  It  WW  lent  to  Carlo\y,  th»t  tl)9  Slsteri 
there  might  copy  ^mo  of  tbo  designs. 

1* 


e,;:Si(«Wr*<a:;/»- 


APPENDIX. 


m 


n 


bis  favorite  brother, 
u  had  grand  break- 
of  the  Carlow  elec- 
;ect  Father  Maher." 
I  Ireland  to  receive 
Dr.  Wiseman  is  to 
tnifested  than  there 
ig  us  through  this 

you  will  send  the 
iw  toDr.Pusey.the 
illuminated  works. 

trouble  of  talking 

Jahy's,  July,  1841. 
i.  Sister  Fanny  had 
naku  arrangemiinta 
Einxioua,  that  it  is  a 
got  more  ladies  to 
at  once.  Bhe  is  a 
I  and  delighted  with 
irorite.  This  morn- 
at  shall  I  do  when 
one  room,  that  they 

ramily  presring  hor 
lay.  Speaking  does 
itions  daily  for  more 
.,  and  are  most  anx- 

symptom  of  decline- 
le  would  have  more 
ler  father's  request, 
and  aUo  to  virit  the 
r"  dear  Jane's"  cell- 
God  Uocz  you  all." 

,  Every  morning  during 
n  tbe  cbapel  of  tlie  Con- 
r  lireakfMt 

In  which  are  written  or 

loulars.    Thot  of  Baggot. 

Carlo\y,  |h»t  tl)o  Blateri 


XXXV. 

I  never  for  one  moment  forgot  you,  or  ceased  to  feel  the  most  since]% 
interest  and  affection,  so  forgive  all  my  past  neglect,  and  I  will  atone  in 
due  season.  A  thousand  thanks  for  the  really  nice  articles  contributed 
for  the  bazaar.  Tell  my  dear  eistera  I  did  not  expect  any  this  tin  o.  We 
are  to  have  five  postulants  from  England  this  week,  which  puts  me  un- 
avoidably under  arrest.  After  their  arrival,  we  start  for  Galway,  go  by 
Tullamore,  and  proceed  to  Ijimpnck  with  our  whole  heart.  Mother  Di 
■  Pazad  sends  her  love,  and  is  delighted  you  like  the  things  she  sent.  A 
new  child  enters  on  Thursday — our  third  since  the  la«t  ceremony,  so  we 
shall  haVe  a  nice  lot  again,  just  when  I  thought  we  were  retiring  from 
business. 

I  beg  you  to  thank  each  dear  Sister  for  the  nice  contributions.  Dui). 
lin  seems  completely  tired  of  these  little  works.  The  spirit  has  fled  to 
Limerick,  Galway,  Cork,  etc.  For  seven  years  we  were  wonderfully  suc- 
cessful, but  we  are  so  no  longer.  You  have  enriched  our  little  store  very 
much.  My  poor  Sister  Teresa  is  as  usual  indefatigable,  indeed  she  is  ail 
wo  have  acting  in  the  matter.  It  seems  very  long  to  me  si§co  last  I 
wrote  to  you,  but  if  you  knew  all  the  weary  writing  I  have  to  do,  you 
would  fully  excuse  me.  God  bless  you,  my  own  dearest  child  and 
sister. 


On  the  eve  of  the  feast  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  1845,  his  Holiness  Pope 
Gregory  XVI.  was  graciously  pleased  to  mark  }\^a  approbation  of  the  Sis- 
ters of  Mercy  by  granting  to  the  whole  Cong.egaton  an  Octave  to  the 
Feast  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  and  a  plenary  indulgence,  on  the  usual  con- 
ditions, to  all  the  Mthful  who  visit  the  Churches  belonging  to  the  Order 
in  Ireland. 
The  following  is  translated  from  the  Rescript  sent  to  Baggot-street : 
From  an  audience,  twenty-third  of  September,  1845,  Pope  Gregory  XVI. 
has  graciously  granted  to  all  the  faithful  who  are  truly  penitent,  have 
confessed  their  sins,  received  the  Holy  Communion,  and  visit  the  Churches 
of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  erected  or  to  be  erected  'n  Ireland,  on  the  twenty- 
fourth  of  September,  the  feast  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  of  Mercy,  and 
on  the  days  of  Octave  of  the  same  feast,  and  who  then  pray  for  the  pro- 
pagation of  the  Faithj  a  plenary  indulgence  that  is  available  forever,  and 
applicable  by  way  of  suflOrage  to  the  souls  in  purgatory.  Signed  N.  N, 


N.  B. — The  indulgences  granted  1830,  and  other  like  privileges  since 
granted  Ui  the  Order,  are  restricted  to  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  in  Ireland, 
and  have  to  be  specially  applied  for  by  those  residing  in  other  countries. 


liiWi"'yiii   


4 


wmm 


..- .  P' 'iW'^fJ'W        »!■*■■     i 


494 


APPENDIX. 


Magdalen 
nearly  800. 


LIST  OF  THE  CONVENTS,  ETC., 

FOUNDED  BY  MOTHER  MCAULKY. 

Convent  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy*  Baggot-street—fcanieA  1827. 
Poor-Schools,  Industrial,  Literary,  Infant,  Juvenile  Boys'.f  Pupils, 
2,000.  Distressed  women  supported,  80.  Hospital,  Jervis-street.  Mon- 
ster Hospital,  Mater  Misericordke.  Tliia  latter  ia  exclusively  under  tlie 
control  of  tl»e  Sistei-s,  and  was  eslablislied  in  compliance  witli  Mother 
McAuley'8  desires,  who  was  often  grieved  to  observe  that  poor  convales- 
cents were  dismissed  from  similar  institutions  before  they  were  strong 
enough  to  work.  The  Mater  Misericordiee  U  considered  among  the  best, 
if  not  the  very  best,  conducted  establishment  of  its  Iiind  in  the  world.  It 
ia  visited  by  physicians  from  all  parts. 

Adult  Reformatory,  50.  Juvenile  Reformatory,  86.  Poor  cluldrrai  at 
the  Golden  Bridge  Branch,  504.  Yiaitation  of  the  Sick,  Prisons,  Work- 
honses,  etc.    Religious,  57. 

St.  Patriek'i,  Singaoum.    Qkuthide.    1884. 
Asylum,  PoorSehools,  Literary  and  IndustriaL     Pupils, 
Instruction  Classes  for  Adults,  Visitation,  etc   Religious,  10. 
8t.  Joseph's,  TuUamore.    1886. 
PoorrSohools,  ViaiUtlon,  Distressed  Women,  etc.  Select  Day-School. 
Pupils,  1,000.    Religious,  84. 

8t.  Jouph's.CUfimUe.    1836. 
Poor-Schools,  Industrial,  Infant,  Distressed  Women,  Visitation  of  the 
Sick,  etc..  Orphan  Asylum.  Select  Day-Sohool.   Pupils,  800.  Religious,  24 
a.  Leo's,  Carlow.    1887. 
Servants'  Asjlum,  Visitation  of  the  Sick,  Prisons,  etc.    Schoolfl,  Day- 
Sohool  for  the  Middle  Classes,  etc.    ReUglous,  86. 

St.  Marie's  of  the  lOe,  Cork,  1837.  ReUgious,  44. 
Poor-Schools,  Industrial,  Male  and  Female  Infant-School.  Pupils,  1,000. 
Day-School  for  Middle  Classea  Pupils,  50.  Male  and  Female  Schools 
for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  Hospital,  House  of  Mercy  for  one  hundred  poor 
women.  Orphans,  150.  Visitation,  Prisons,  Workhouses,  the  Sick,  etc., 
Blind  Asylum. 

St.  Anne's,  Booterstovm.    1888. 
Poor-Schools.    Pupils,  nearly  three  hundred.   Orphans,  42.   Viitation, 
etc.    Religious,  9. 

St.  Mary's,  Limerick.    1888.    Religious.  00, 
Infant.  Industrial,  Literary,  Poor-Schools.    Pupils,  5.000.    Hospital  for 
the  Poor-i>atients.  1,000.    Orplians.  100.    Widows'  Asylum.  Servants- 
Asylum,  Visitation,  etc..  etc. 

•  (MM  SL  Cttherlne-s,  •Ince  1811,  In  momory  of  the  P«trone«  of  the  Fonndrc*. 
f  Under  ten  jtut  oftgaw 


1111  mil  iumjii'MaM^y 


STC, 

landed  1827. 
}  Boys'.t  Pupili, 
ervis-street.  Mon- 
clusively  under  the 
liance  with  Mother 
that  poor  convales- 
e  they  were  atrong 
ed  among  the  best, 
id  in  the  world.    It 

.    Poor  chQdrm  at 
Jick,  Prisons,  Work- 

1884. 

InduBtriaL     Pupils, 

L.  etc   Religioiis,  10. 

Select  Day-School. 


m,  ViBitatlon  of  the 
1, 800.  ReligiooB,  24 

I,  etc.    SchoolB,  Day- 

;ioaB,  44. 

chool.  Pupils,  1,000. 
and  Female  Schools 
or  one  hundred  poor 
looses,  the  Sick,  etc., 


hans,  43.   Vintation, 

lUB,  CO, 

I,  5,000.    Hospital  for 

rs'  Asylum,  Servants' 

leM  oftbe  FonndrcH. 


▲FFBKDIX. 


495 


Owr  Lady  <^  Merey,  Bermondiey,  London.   1889. 
In&nt,  Industrial,  literary,  Poor-Schools.  Hospitals, — Guy's,  St.  Thomas', 
Great  Ormond-street,—  House  of  Mercy,  Instruction  Classes  for  Converts, 
Visitation  of  Poor-Houses,  Prisons,  the  Sick,  etc.    Pupils,  about  1,000. 
Religious,  40. 

8t.  Terem't,  QaLvoay.    1840.    Beligions,  80. 
Poor-Schools,  Select  Day-School,  Magdalen  A^lum,  Widow  and  (>^ 
plian  Afiylums,  Visitation  of  the  Sick,  Hospitals,  Prisons,  &c.  Pupils,  600. 
8t.Ji)hn's,Birr.    1840.    Religious,  25. 
Poor-Schools.     Pupils,  500.     Select  Day-Schod,  Visitation,  &a.  Or- 
phanage. 

8t.  Marie't,  BirmingJuim.    1841. 

Pooi-iJchools,  Select  Day-School,  House  of  Mercy,  Visitation  of  the  Siok, 
Prisons,  Hospitals,  &&    Pupils,  about  600.    Religious,  80. 


"■'l-""'^:i/'" ''-':.  R.  L  P. 

OBITUARY. 

DuUin Bister  Caroline  Murphy. 

"      S.  Aloysia  O'Grady 


•  •t«*«*«»  « 


»•••«•  •••  • 


8.  M.  Elizabeth  Harley. . . 
S.  M.  Teresa  McAuley. . . . 

"      S.  M.  Mechtildcs  Gaffiioy. . 

"      S.  M.  Agnes  Manuion 

"      S.  Veronica  Carrigan 

"      S.M.  RoseLubfi 

"      S.M.  Aloysia  Thorpe 

"      S.  M.  Agnes  MoAuley 

"      S.M.  deChantalMcCann. 

''      8.  M.  Ctertrude  Jones 

CarJoie S.  Catherine  CofJby 

Cork S.  M.  Francis  Maliony. . . ., 

Dublin S.  M.  Francis  Marmion.. . . 

Limerick 8.  M.  Teresa  Potter 

Oalaay 8.  Mary  Burke 

Bermondtc-J 


June  28, 1881. 
Feb.  8, 1883. 
April  25, 1883. 
Nov.  11, 1888. 
June  14, 1885. 
Feb.  10, 1886 
Feb.  9,1887. 
Mar.  11, 1837. 
June  80, 1837 
Aug.  7, 1887. 
Oct.  27, 1837. 
May  9, 1889. 

March  8, 1840 

"     10,    " 

"     20,    " 

June  11,    " 

Nov.  1,       " 


8.  M.  Ursula  O'Connor 

"         8.  M.  Scholastica  Boroughs "     5,       " 

DimuK Thb  FoxntDREBB,  Rev.  Momsn 

MABTCATHEUINEMcAUIiET.    NoV.  11,1841 

S.  M.  Justina  Fleming Deo.  10,      " 

8.  Agatha  Brenn&n "    27,     " 


J 


496 


APPENDIX. 


s » 


Dublin 

GarlotD 

Cork 

TuUamore 

limerick 

Wexford.... «.. 

Birr 

Carlow 

Oalway 

If 

•  ••••••  I 

LiPierick 

KiUarney 

Wexford 

ZhMin 

Perth 

Pitttburgh,Pa.. 
Chicago,  lU.... 

Dublin 

Birmingham . . 

KUlarrxy 

Bermondaey . . . 
« 

Wettport 

Wec^'^rd 

Oork 

Birr 

Mailou) 

Cork 

KiUarney 


Wexford 

f< 

Pitt^urgh,  Pa.. 
Bermondiey... 

•  «  •  I 

•  •  «  < 

TtMamore 

Cork 


S.  M.  Monica  Murphy Maj  26, 1842. 

S.  M.  Xavier  Peppard Dec.  25,     " 

S.  M.  Fn-nces  Prendergast June  29, 1848. 

S.  M.  Josephine  Tereea  areen.. .  Sept.  11,    " 

S.  M,  Aloysia  Griffin Dec.  27,      " 

S.  M.  Gertrdde  Heddennan April  3, 1844. 

S.  M.  Josephine  Walsh "14,    " 

K.  M.  M.  Aloysia  Scott May  81,    " 

S.  M.  Vincent  Kenny Feb.  6, 1845. 

S.  M.  Magdalen  Blake March  8,   " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Deverell "     7,   " 

S.M.  Teresa  Bolls May  14,   " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Tobin Sept.  26,   " 

S.  Brigid  Hackett Nov.  14,  " 

S.  M.  Camillus  Butler Dec.  81,   " 

S.  M.  De  Chantal  Markey Jan.   9,1849. 

S.  M.  Catherine  Qogajty July  80,    " 

S.  M.  Aloysius  Strange  "         " 

S.  M.  Gertrude  Maguire  Dec.,  10,    " 

S.  M.  Josephine  Corbett "  " 

S.  M.  Qare  Corbett Oct.  19,    " 

S.  M.  Cecilia  Edwards. Jan.  18, 1847. 

S.M. Baptist O'Grady Feb.  15,     " 

S.  M.  Frances  Good April  2.     " 

S.  M.  Frances  FaUon "    17,     " 

S.  M.  Angela  Smyth May    9,     " 

S.  M.  Aloyria  Redmond "     H,     " 

S.  M.  Gertrude  Hogan "       9,     " 

S.  M.  Clare  McEvoy "       "      " 

S.  M.  Xavier  Creagh June  26,     " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  O'Connor July    1 ,     " 

S.  M.  Teresa  Griffin "     25,     " 

S.  M.  Gertrude  WUson Aug.  17,     " 

,  S.  M.  Augustine  McDonnell Sept.  8,     " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Byan "     16,     " 

,  S.  M.  Gertrude  Kinsella Oct.  27,     " 

,  8.  M,  Frances  Jonee "     28,     " 

S.  M.  Anastaaia  McGauley Dec.  29,     " 

,  S.  M.  Catherine  Caley Jan.  26,1848 

.  S.  M.  Catherine  Corcoran May  12,     " 

.  S.  M.  Joseph  Cuddon June   5,     " 

,  S.  M.  Gertrude  Barnwell July  12,     " 

,  M.  M.  Teresa  Wlldridge Sept.  14,     " 


IH 


May  26, 1842. 
Dec.  25,     " 
June  29, 1848. 
Sept.  11,    " 
Dec.  27.      " 
April  3, 1844. 

"  14,  " 
May  81,  " 
Feb.  6, 1845. 
March  8,  " 
"  7,  " 
May  14,  " 
Sept.  26.  " 
Nov.  14,  " 
,  Dec.  81,  " 
Jan.  9,1849. 
July  80,    " 


Quein*f  Square,  London.  S, 

Limmek S. 

Bermondsey S. 

Limerick S. 

PUtiburgli,  Pa S. 

S. 

Carlou) S. 

J)Min R. 

OalvMy ; S. 

"      S. 

KiUamey S. 

DiMiH S. 

Liverpool R, 

Killamey. S. 

Dublin S. 

"  H 

.••■..•••■a      ••■     C 

"      S. 

Limerick S. 

Wolverhampton R. 

Limerick S. 

"       S. 

Dublin S. 

KUlarney S. 

Tuam S. 

KiUamey B. 

Carlow R. 

Dublin S. 

Sirr. S. 

Liverpool. S. 

Naas S. 

Queen's  Square,  London,  S. 
Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  U.8...  M. 

Bermondsey S. 

Pitti^urgh,  Pa R. 

Chicago,  III S. 

Castletown,  Bere R. 

Cork 8. 

Nottingfiam S. 

Bermondsey S. 

NottingjMm B. 

Kinsale S. 

DiMn B. 


APPENDIX.  497 

,  M.  Vincent  Talbot Oct.     7, 1848. 

M.  Joseph  Clinton Nov.    6,  " 

M.  De  Sales  Eyre April  13, 1849. 

M.  Philomeno  Potter "    19,  " 

M.  Austin  Goold 

M.  Philomene  Reid 

M.  Austin  Me^re Sept  14,  " 

M.  Cecilia  Marmion "  " 

Agnes  Smith May  10,  " 

M.  Joseph  Joyce "     19,  " 

M.  Agnes  Rice Jane    5,  " 

AnnaKeUy July  25,  " 

,  M.  M.  De  Sales  White Oct.     5,  " 

.{.'eresa  Ryan "     21,  " 

M.  Agnes  Dennehy April  28, 1850. 

M.  Aloysius  Stocker May  16,  " 

M.  De  Sales  Dillon June  10,  " 

M.  Xavier  Barry "     24,  " 

M.  M.  Austin  Cuddon July  22,  " 

M.  Ignatia  O'Brien "     27,  " 

M.  Aloysia  Pearson Oct.      6,  " 

M.  Rose  Fox "     19,  " 

M.  Ignatius  Flanagan Nov.  29,  " 

Brigid  Heffernan Dec.   29,  " 

M.  Gabriel  Lynch Feb.  15,1851. 

M.  De  Sales  O'Reardon Mar.  16,  " 

M.  M.  Catherine  Meagher. . .  May     8,  " 

Veronica  Duggan "    16,  " 

M.  DePazziCoUier Oct.    26,  " 

M.  Vhicent  Gibson "     27,  " 

M.  Cecilia  Kenny Nov.    8,  " 

M.  Stanislaus  Tatchill Feb.   22, 1852. 

,  M.  Xavier  Tieman "      "  " 

M.  Catherine  Beste Mar.  10,  " 

M.  Mary  Joseph  Cullen April  21,  " 

M.  Josephine  Kinsella "      "  " 

M.  Agnes  Carroll "     80,  " 

M.  Cecila  Xavier  Lynch May     5,  " 

M.  Stanislaus  Vavasour Juno    3,  " 

M.  Patricia  Baxter Nov.  18,  " 

M.  Joseph  Perry "      "  " 

M.  Magdalen  Murray "     20,  " 

M.  Do  Sales  De  Burgh Dec.  28  " 

21* 


''W^i^y■sp'^m^^^'■  '■ 


498 


APPENDIX. 


jMerpo<A 

TuUamore  ... 

Kintak 

WettpoH 

Bermondtey.. 
TuUamore  ... 

Cvrk 

Birr. 

Limerick 

Wexford 

Londonderry 

Tuam 

Limerick 

Wettport 

Killamey  . . . 

Oakoay 

Ttiam 

Cork 

GaltMy 

8ligo 

Boteommon.. 


4, 

«f 

9, 

« 

18, 

M 

28,1864 

80. 

1* 

4, 

U 

17, 

fl 

18. 

it 

25, 

M 

14. 

l< 

Belfaa 

Chicago,  III.. 


Bligo 

Limenck  ..•••••• 

Liverpool 

£e% 

Limerick 

KUlarney 

Birr 

MarywOe,  Staffordehire 

Weslport 

Jfaaa 

Providence,  B.  I. . 

Birr 

At  the  Crimea 

Oarlov) 

Derry 

QaliDay 


S.M.  Clare  Cropper Feb,     5.18S8. 

S.  M.  Teresa  Jowph  Ryan "     14,    " 

S.  M.  Paula  Murphy Mar.  17,    « 

S.  M.  Catherine  CoBtello "     22,    " 

S.  M.  Xavier  Grimmer "     25,    •' 

B.M.  Teresa  PurceU "     28,    " 

e.  M.  Gonzaga  Murphy "      "     " 

S.  M.  Catherine  Scott May     8,    " 

S.  M.  Jane  O'Brien Jane  24,    " 

S.  M.  Alphonsa  Boche July  25,    " 

S.  M.  Baptist  O'Brien Aug.    1,    " 

S.  M.  Monica  Dowal " 

S.  M.  Brigid  Davis. Oct. 

S.  M.  AloysiuB  Costello " 

S.M.  Clare  Bice Jan. 

S.  M.  Joseph  Macklin " 

8.  M.  Magdalesi  Maher Feb. 

S.  M.  Xavier  Hegarty " 

S.  M.  Clare  O'Malley " 

S.  M.  Clare  Nolan Mar. 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Kilbride May 

M.  M.  Joseph  Byan "      " 

S.  M.  Augustine  Welby June  28, 

B.  M.  Agatha  O'Brien, July    8, 

S.  M.  Bernard  Hughes "      " 

S.  M.  Louisa  O'Connor "      " 

S.  M.  Veronica  Hickey "      " 

B,  M,  De  Sales  McDonnell " 

S.  M.  Loyola  Grant " 

S.  Martha  O'Connell Dec. 

S.  M.  Joseph  Maginn Jan. 

B.  M.  Gonzaga  Denham " 

S.  Veronica  CuBsen " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Heenan Mar. 

I.  M.  M.  of  the  Cross  Hardman " 

8.  M.  Augustine  Higgins April   7, 

S,  M.  Joseph  Aloyria  White. ...      " 

S.  M.  De  Bales  KeUy 

B.  M.  Aloysia  CTeary June 

S.  M.  Winefrid  Spry Oct, 

B,  M.  M.  Josephine  Cullen Jan, 

S.  M.  Agatha  AlweU Feb. 

B.  M,  Elizabeth  Bowe " 


18. 

« 

28, 

« 

81, 

it 

18,1856. 

28, 

(« 

29, 

C( 

9, 

i. 

15, 

«< 

7, 

« 

9, 

« 

2, 

M 

20, 

M 

5, 

M 

1, 

N 

20, 

n 

»»,tW><|»ll»5-Al»l|'l<ll'H 


. . . .  Feb. 

5,18S8. 

M 

14.    " 

Mar. 

17.    « 

« 

22,    " 

It 

25,    •' 

•  •  •  • 

28,    " 

M 

«     « 

. ...  May 

8.    " 

....  Jane  24,    « 

....  July 

26,    " 

Aug. 

1.    •* 

i< 

4.    " 

. ...  Oct. 

9,    " 

U 

18,    " 

....  Jan. 

28,1864 

K 

80.    '• 

....  Feb. 

4,    « 

« 

17,    " 

« 

18,    « 

....  Mar. 

25,    « 

....  May 

14,    « 

it 

«          M 

....  June  28,    " 

....  July 

8,    « 

« 

<l          f€ 

<C 

M          » 

« 

«          « 

« 

18,    " 

l( 

28,    " 

Dec. 

81,    " 

Jan. 

18,1866. 

•f 

28,    " 

ft 

29,    " 

Mar 

9.    " 

tt. . . .      " 

16,    « 

April   7,    " 

e. . . .      " 

9,    " 

June    2,    •• 

Oct. 

20.    " 

Jan. 

6,    « 

Feb 

1.    - 

« 

20,    " 

)•••••••••• 


PaUKUna., 

KeU$ 

Drogheda.. . 
TuUamore.. 

Birr 

Cork 

Chicago,  lU. 


Tuatn 

Nouu. 

Derby 

Limerick 

Kintale 

Hartford,  Conn.. . 
Providence,  S.  I. . 

Ifaae 

TuUamore 

Qalway 

NeweasUe^n-l^ine 

Nottingfiam 

Limerick 

CharleviUe. 

Limerick 

Dundalk 

Qlasgow 

SanPraruiKO.... 

BaUinadoe 

Alton 

Sunderland 

Dublin 

TuUamore 

Cork 

Ccuilebar 

KiUamey 

Chicago,  lU 

Hartford,  Oonn. . . 

Chicago,  111 

Oalteay 

TuUamore 

Birmingham 

AtUone 


APPEITDIX.  499 

8.  M.  Elizabeth  Butler Feb. 

B.  M.  Agnes  Donnelly Mar. 

S.  M.  Joseph  Flynn May 

S.  M.  Elizabeth  Joseph  Doey " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  CarroU. Aug. 

S.  M.  Antonia  Frendergast " 

R.M.  Paula  Ruth. " 

S.  M.  Borpa  Hohn " 

B.  M.  Lucy  Donovan " 

B.  M.  Mary  Alphonae  Ryan Sept. 

B.  M.  Xavier  Mathews " 

S.  M.  Vincent  Regan " 

M.  M.  Jostina  Eane Oct. 

B.  M.  CamilluB  De  la  Hide Jan. 

M.  M.  CamiUuB  O'NeU Not. 

M.M.  Gertrude  Bradley " 

R.  M.  M.  Angela  Kenny Jan. 

5.  M.  Stanislaus  Joseph  Dunne. .  Feb. 

B.  M.  Alphonsus  Duffy April 

B.  M.  Vincent  Evans May 

R.  M.  Aloysia  Percy " 

Sister  Anne  Hewitt " 

6.  M.  Vincent  Ball June 

S.  M.  Aquin  McCormac " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  O'SulUvan July 

B.Mary  Kenny " 

M.  M.  De  Sales  Redden " 

S.M.  Francis  Farley " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Healy Aug. 

B.  M.  Anne  Smith " 

S.  M.  CecQia  Caasidy " 

S.  M.  Catherine  Mooney Sept. 

S.  M.  Rose  Doherty Oct. 

S.  M.  Teresa  Lynch " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Bridgnum " 

S.  M.  Frances  WaU 

S.  M.  TeresaMurray Nov.  11,    " 

S.  M.  Martha  Hennesy 

S.  M.  Gabriel  Fitzgihbons 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Walsh Deo.  10,  " 

S.  M.  Austin  Lystor "  12,  " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Mossell "  10.  " 

B.  M.  Vincent  Lysaght Feb.  1, 1868. 


23,1856. 

14, 

M 

2. 

<( 

10. 

t* 

14, 

ft 

23, 

it 

it 

it 

<C 

li 

80. 

it 

2,1886. 

4. 

it 

12, 

M 

10. 

ti 

4, 1857. 

20,1856. 

21. 

it 

6,1867 

19, 

a 

22, 

it 

3, 

« 

17, 

«. 

18, 

n 

18. 

it 

19. 

n 

28. 

u 

28, 

t* 

89, 

n 

31, 

it 

4, 

M 

6, 

« 

14, 

f< 

18, 

it 

1, 

M 

11. 

it 

14. 

it 

500 


A1»PEND1X. 


Oarhw 

Kellt 

Cariou) 

ProtidenM,  B.  I. 

Queenitown 

OaliBay 

Fermente 

Dublin 

Cork 

TuUamore 

Wettport 

Navan 

Berry 

AthlOTM 

Limerick 

Pittsburgh,  Perm. 

Charkville 

Limerick 

TuUamore 

Cork 

Londonderry. . . . 

EUamey 

Birmingham .... 

Ifewport,B.I... . 

Providence,  B.  I. 
(f         (I 

Hull,  Yorkshire.. 
Sligo 

New  York 

Kinsale 

Oalway 

Killarney 

Tuam   

Newfoundland . . 

BaUina 

Glasgow 

Ballina 

New  York 

Mallow 

CharlevUle 

Boieommon 


S.  M.  Ignatia  Behan Feb.  28.  1S58L 

S.  M.  Ignatius  Leahy Mar.  29,  " 

S.  M.  AugusUne  Midhall April  25,  " 

S.  M.  Teresa  Kavanagh "    25,  " 

S.  M.  Josephine  Hearn May     1,  " 

S.  M.  Francis  Corrigan "     13,  " 

B.  M.  M.  Bernard  Kirwan "     13,  " 

S.  M.  Oenevieve  Jarmin Julj  19,  " 

S.  M.  Paula  Rice Aug.    8,  " 

S.  M.  EvangeliBliWyse "      8,  " 

B.  M.  Juliana  Haran "    18,  " 

S.  M.  Agnes  Corbett Sept.  16,  " 

8.  M.  Joeeph  Morgan Oct.    13,  " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Wheeler "     13,  " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Naish  : Nov.  12,  " 

S.  M.  Assisinm  Pearson "     80,  " 

S.  M.  Gonzaga  O'Gormaii 

S.  M.  Clare  Lalor Dec.  29,  " 

S.  Mary  Shonahan Jan.     5, 1859L 

S.  M.  Ignatius  0'B<\ffer    Feb.     1,  " 

S.M.Agne^Daly March  1,  '« 

S.  M.  Stanislaus  Griffiths "    6,  " 

S.  M.  Evangelist  Manning May     2,  " 

S.Mary  Yates Sept.    1,  " 

S.  M.  Aloysius  Fitzpatrick 

S.  M.  Louisa  CurOn "     11,  " 

S.  M.  Ursula  Wright "    21,  " 

S.  M.  Catherine  Dixon Oct.    16,  " 

S.  M.  Joseph  Sweeney "     81,  " 

S.  M.  Bernard  Walker Nov.  19,  " 

B.  M.  M.  Agnes  O'Connor Dec.  20,  " 

S.  M.  CamilluB  Brahan Feb.  19, 1860 

S.  M.  Xavier  Bourke Mar.  19,  " 

S.  M.  Agnes  O'Shea. "     20,  " 

S.  M.  Bernard  Fox April   7,  " 

S.  M.  Camillus  CanoU "    13,  " 

S.  M.  Paula  Brennan "    27,  " 

S.  M.  Evangelista  Rigg May  15,  '^ 

S.  M.  Agnes  Merrick June  14,  " 

M.  M.  Stanislaus  Wiley "     14,  " 

S.  M.  Aloysia  Dwyer "     18,  " 

S.  M.  XovierNagle "    28,  " 

S.  M.  Patricia  Oalwey Aug.  28,  " 


.  Feb.  28.  1S68L 

.  Mar.  29,  " 

.  April  25,  " 

.       "    25,  " 

.  May     1,  " 

.      "     13.  " 

.      "     13.  " 

.  July  19,  « 

.  Aug.    8,  " 

.      "      3,  " 

.      "    18.  " 

.  Sept.  16,  " 

,  Oct.    13.  " 

..     "     13.  " 

.  Nov.  12,  " 

,.     •'     30.  " 

..  Dec.  29,  " 
, .  Jan.     6. 185a 

..  Feb.     1,  " 

. .  March  1,  " 

"6,  " 

. .  May     2,  " 

. .  Sept    1,  " 

..      "     11,    " 
..      "    21,    " 
..  Oct.    16,    " 
..     "     81,    " 
. ,  Not.  19,    " 
..Dec.  20,    " 
. .  Feb.  19, 1860 
, . .  Mar.  19,    " 
...     "     20.    " 
. .  April   7.    " 
...      "    18,    " 
...      "    27.    " 
..May  15.    *' 
. . .  June  14,    " 
...      "    14,    " 
...      "    18.    " 
...      "    28,    " 
...  Aug.  28,    " 


APPENDIX. 


601 


.Birr 

Drogheda, 

Liverpool.. ,..i... , 

Chicago,  Iff. , 

Baltimore,  Md. 

Wexford 


KiUarney S.  M.  Bernard  Bynte Aug.  23.1860. 

Nenagh S.  Mary  Weir "     80.    " 

Tuam...T, S.  Agatha  Breene Sept.  30.    " 

Liverpool 8.  M.  Cecilia  Morgan Oct.      8.    " 

Loughrea S.  M.  Agnes  Joseph  Blake "     21,    " 

Queengtoum, B.M.  M,  Joaophine  McCarthy...  I^.  29.    " 

S.  M.  (Sonzaga  Coleman Nov.  15,    " 

R.  M.  M.  Vincent  Egan Dec.  27.    " 

S.  M.  Igr^tisOarolan "     80,    " 

S.  '...  EvangcliBt  Smith Jan.     8, 1831 

S.  M.  Bonaventura  Mahony 

S.  M.  Regina  Browne 

S.  M.  Tere«  Cullen Feb.  25.     " 

"        M.  M.  Elizabeth  Cumminga March4,    " 

i^igo S.  M.  Aloysia  Macdonald Sept.  14.    " 

Swinford S.  M.  Gabriel  Dooley. Oct.     8,    " 

New  York. S.  M.  Xavier  Stuart 

M.M.  Paula  Lenahan 

Mlamey S.  M.  Aquin  Waleh Oct. 

Birmingham S.  Mary  of  the  Cross  Hardman...     " 

Brooklyn, N.7. S.  M.  Joseph  Shine 

"  "    S.  M.Frances  McKenna 

Oineinnati,0. S.  M.  Xavier  Scully Dec. 

Abii.ydon S.  M.  De  Sales  Payne « 

Mnsak S.  M.  Xavier  O'Dwyer Jan. 

Olasgow S.  M.  Vincent  Rigg Feb. 

East  Road,  London S.  M.  Bridget  Oreen " 

Brooklyn S.  M.  Agnes  Rooney 

Mdnchetter,  2f.H. S.  Regina  Sheady 

"     S.  M.  De  Sales  Jennings ' 

Bantry,  Cork S.  M.  Joseph  Xavier  Murphy. ...     " 

CastMmr , S.  M.  De  Sales  Heney March28. 

Limerick S.  M.  Josephine  Malcahy May      6. 

Jhtblin M.  M.  Austin  Bourke 

Roaeommon R.  M.  M.  Xaveria  Irwin June 

Nm  York...... S.  M.  Borgia  Coleman 

"        S.  M.  Ignatius  Murray 

limerick S.  Zita  Ryan July 

Sligo..   S.  M.  Vincent  Leonard Aug. 

Bwinfo'id. S.  M.  Stanislaus  Dooley " 

"       S.  M.  Rose  McQill 

PUt^wgh S.  M.  Regis  Dowling 

if(M» S.  M.  Ignatius  O'Hamlon Sept. 


21, 

« 

25, 

« 

15, 

« 

19, 

« 

1. 

1863 

3, 

« 

12, 


16, 


29, 
29. 


1, 


25, 


8, 


502 


APPENDIX. 


New  York 

« 

Baltimore,  Md. 

New  Tork 

Natan .^, 

JDrogheda 

u 

Map^hetter,  N.  H. 

Dundee 

Bdlina, 

Jhtngarvan 

BanJP)^anei»eo 

Tralee 

Brooklyn,  N.  T. 

Buenoe  Ayret 

New  Zealand 

Little  Boek,  Ark 

Tralee 

Cork 

Ohartenlle 

Umeriek, 

Maneheiter 

NeweaeUe-iny-Tyne 

Wolverhampton 

Providenee,  B.l. 

Boeheiter,  2t.  T. 

Maneheeter 

Bligo. 

NewBoes. 

BnniikiUen 

Oa/iicw 

CharUmOe 

Dublin 

Newry 

Cincinnati. 

Fiwbury  Squ'e,  Londmi. 

Maneheeter 

Boieommon 

Bt,Louii,Mo 


8.  ZiU  Mullen Oct.  81,1862. 

S.  M.  Magdalen  Momy 

S.  M.  Anna  Ck>nnor. 

B.  M.  Catherine  Wy  .no Nov.,      1861. 

8.  M.  Bernard  Steele 

8.M.  StenialaoB  Ryan 

8.  M.  Angela  Hilliard Sept.  10, 1863. 

8.  M.  Clara  O'Shea. Oct.  80,      " 

S.  M.  Baptist  Finnegan. Nov.    4,       " 

8.  M.  Gabriel  Flood "    6,        " 

8.  M.  Catherine  Slattery "  28, 

M.M.JaeephStanialaaa  Preston.      "   89,      " 
8.  M.  Augustine  Joseph  O'Deil..      "     "        " 

8.  M.  Xavier  Fitzgerald Dec.    8,      " 

M.  M.  Paula  Beechenor ,     "      "       " 

8.  M.  di  Pazzi  O'Connor Feb.  20, 1868. 

S.  M.  Teresa  Wissen 

8.  M.  Dominica  Nagle 

S.M.  Xavier  Franklin 

S.  M.  Alo/sius  ]F1tzpatrick 

8.  M.  Joseph  Stack Feb.  20,     " 

8.  M.  Joseph  O'Farrell "     "       " 

8.  M.  Baptist  Eeatinge March  25,  " 

8.  Clara  Crotty May    15,   " 

8.  M.  De  Sales  Leeoon June  20,   " 

M.  M.  I   ptist  Geragty May    80,    " 

8.  M.  Agnes  Robinson Aug.  11,   " 

8.  M.  Joeephino  Lombard "     81,    " 

8.  M.  De  Sale  McCalUon Jan.  80, 1864. 

Sister  M.  Evangelist  Markane.. .  June,  4, 1864. 

M.  M.  Philomene  Edwards. Aug.  14,    " 

8.  ColnmbaMee "    21,1863. 

It«  M.  Frances  O'Farrell Sept.  27,    " 

8.  M.  Pauline  Hogan. Oct.     5,    " 

8.  M.  Agathik  Roche Nov.    8,    " 

M.  M.  Ane^ela  Dunne "     12,   " 

8.  M.  Magdalen  O'Flynn 

R.  M.  Catherine  O'Connor Deo.  10. 

8.  M.  Angela  Keiiiy "    28,     " 

Sister  Martha  Sinnctt "    29,     " 

8.  M.  Qertmde  Qleet>Y>n Feb.,     1864. 

R.  M.Vincent  Hartneit "  " 

Sister  Martha  CnmmLigs Aug.  10,  " 


.  Oct. 

81. 1862. 

.  Nov.. 

1861. 

..  Sept. 

10, 1863. 

..  Oct. 

80,   " 

.  Nov. 

4,   " 

I< 

6.   " 

« 

28.   " 

jn.   " 

m    " 

I..   " 

u        ■    f 

..  Dec 

8.   " 

« 

«   «« 

...  Feb.20,18«8. 

^  »uk)MO«lfaiib*«rtMMHP 


APPENDIX. 


508 


8t.  Loait,  Mo. 
CMeago 


S.  M.  Angnfltine  Davenport Sept.  4, 186S. 

S.  M.  Tliocla  Qrattan Oct.  10.  « 


Nora.— The  tbor*  oUtoary  U  not  by  »ny  meant  complete,  and  a  few  of  the  name*  and 
dates  an  mtspUoed ;  bat  aa  thla  error  la  not  uf  much  Imporlanoe^  it  ia  unncceaeary  to  '-^t 
the  traable  of  raetUyioK  it,  wbleh  weald  b«  no  taiy  matter. 


w 


CONTENTS  OF  MERCY  FOUNDED  DP  TO  THE  YEAR  1868. 


IRELAND. 

nirXDATIOX.  OOmmi,™.  HUAtl 

1827.    St.  Catherine's.  Dublin 

1834.    St.  Patrick's,  Kingstown.  B* DiMin. 

1886.    St.  Joseph's.  TuUamore •• 

"       St.  Joseph's,  Charleville - 

1837.    St  Leo's,  Carlow « 

St.  Marie's  of  the  Isle,  Cork " 

1888.    St.  Anne's,  Booterstown,  B " 

!•       St.  Maiy's,  Limerick « 

1839.  St.  Maiy'H.  Naas OarUno. 

1840.  St.  Teresa's,  Galway JhibUn. 

St.  Michaer8,Wexfoid Oariow. 

St.John'8,  Biir. 2)«N»». 

1842.    Mount  St.  Mary's,  Westport CarUno. 

1844.  St.  Ck)lumba'B,  Kells TuOamare. 

St.  Joseph's,  Kinsale Limerick. 

"  The  Holy  Cross,  Killamey « 

1845.  The  Magdalen  A^lum,  Galway,  B Oulvmy. 

"  St.  Patrick's,  Mallow Limeriek. 

1846.  St.  Peter's,  Tnam Cavhw. 

"  St.  Patrick's,  SUgo WettpoH. 

1847.  St.  Malachy's,  Dundalk DMin. 

1848.  St.  Peter's,  Londonderry Tullanwn. 

1850.    Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Tipperary Oorh. 

"       Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Doone « 

"       St.  Mary's,  Queenstown « 

•The  ennvenu  markod  »B"  ara  branch  houaet, sapplled from  tb*  chief  booM of  tb« 
41oc«aa  IB  wUch  they  are  looated. 


604 


AFPEKDIX. 


1850.  St.  Raphael's,  Lougliroa Dublin. 

"  Mount  St.  Vincent,  Limerick,  B Limeriek. 

"  St.  Catherine's,  Newcastle,  B " 

'  St.Anne's,  Rathkcale,  B 

"  St.  Teresa's,  Cappoquin Wt^ord. 

1851.  St  Joseph's,  Ballinrobe Wettport. 

"  Asylum  for  Widows  and  Orphans,  Galway,  B.  .Galway. 

All  HaUow's,  BalUna migo. 

1852.  St.  Michael's,  Atliy Dublin. 

1853.  St.  Joseph's,  Navan KOU, 

"  St.  Angela's,  Castlebar Oalitay. 

"  St.  Qabriel's,  Ballinasloe Loughred. 

"  Immaculate  Ck>nception,  Roscommon Limeriek. 

1854.  St.  Paul's,  Belfast DviUn. 

"  Our  Lady's  Abbey,  Adaie,  B Limerick. 

"  St.  Xavier's,  EnniB " 

"  St.  Mary's,  Nenagh.B Birr. 

"  St.  Paul's  Hospital,  Jerris-street,  B Dublin. 

"  St.  John  Baptist's,  Tralee KiUarMy 

"  St  Joseph's,  New  Raw Wexford. 

"  St.  Mary's,  Drogheda TvUamore. 

"  St  Oabriel's,  Dungarvan,  B Cappogvin. 

1865.  St.  Vincent's  Reformatory,  Qolden  Bridge,  B. .  .Dublin. 
"  St  Mary's  of  the  Cross,  Kilruah Birr. 

"  St.  Liguori's,  Swinford Tuam. 

"  St    Agne's,    Castletown  Bere " 

"  Meet  Sacred  Heart,  Newry Kiniale. 

1866.  Immaculate  Heart  of  Mary,  Clonakilty " 

"  Immaculate  Conception,  Enniskillen 8Ngo. 

1857.  The  Annunciation,  Athlone Soteommon. 

"  St.  Patrick's,  G  ort Carlow. 

Our  Lady  of  Mercy 'e  Hospital,  Cork,  B Cork. 

1858.  StMary's,  Ardee DunddOe. 

"  Immaculate  Conception,  Ennisoorthy Weaford. 

"  St.  Joseph's,  Passage Cork. 

"  St.  Co.therine's,  Dundee Londonderry. 

1860.  Immaculate  Conception,  Skibbereen Kinsale. 

"  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Outerard. OcUway. 

"  The  Most  Holy  Trinity,  Bantry Cork. 

"  St  Patrick's,  Downpatrick Belfcut. 

1861.  St  Joseph's,  Longford Dublin. 

"  St  Oamillus'  Workhouse  Hospital,  Limerick,  B-Limeritk. 


,  .Dublin. 
.  .lAmeriek. 


....Wtxford. 

yfeOpvrt. 

B..Galuiay. 
. . .  .8ligo. 

IhMin. 

. . .  .KeO*. 

Oalieay. 

Laughred. 

Limerick. 

Dvblin. 

Uneriek. 

Birr. 

IhMin. 

KiUarMH 

Wexforii. 

, TuUamore. 

Cappoguin. 

,  B...J>«Nin. 

Birr. 

Tuam. 

a 

Kinsale. 

Sligo. 

Boscommon. 

, Carlou). 

Cork. 

Dundalk. 

Weaford. 

Cork. 

Londonderr)/. 

EAMole. 

OtUtBay. 

Cork. 

Bdfait. 

DubUn. 

erick,  B-Limeriek. 


APPENDIX. 


505 


OATI  OV  OOKVUin.  '  ?njAT»D  MOM. 

(OUMDATIOH. 

1861.  Mount  Cannel,  Moate Kells. 

1862.  St.  Bridget's,  Clara TuUamore. 

Immaculate  Conception,  Rochford  Bridge " 

The  Magdalen  Aeylum,  Westport,  B We»tjmt. 

•'  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Moville Londondtrry. 

St.  Mary's,  Templemore Cork. 

■   "  The  Mercy  Hospital,  Ballinrohe,  B BaUinrohe. 

"  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Macroom Queenstown. 

•'  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Cahir Oork. 

"  Mater  Misericordice,  Hospital,  Ecdes-Btiteet,  B . .  2?ttWtn. 

"  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Elphin Boscommon. 

"  '•  "       Banlimore,  Antrim Belfast. 

«  "         "        Rosstreror A'eiery. 

■■■'--'■         ENGLAND. 

1830.  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Bermondsey Cork. 

1841.  St.  Marie's,  Birmingham Dublin. 

1843.  St.  Ethelburga's,  Liverpool " 

"  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Sunderland Cork. 

1844.  Our  Lady's,  Nottingham Birmingham. 

"  St.  Edward's,  Blandford  Square,  London Dvblin. 

1845.  St.  Joseph's,  Cheadle Cartow. 

1846.  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Bristol Bermondsey. 

1847.  St.  Anne's,  Staffordshire Birmingham. 

1849.  St.  Marie's,  Wolverhampton " 

"       St.  Augustine's,  Cheadle,  B Oarlow. 

BilBton " 

Our  Lady  oi  Mercy,  Qlossop,  B Nottingham. 

"       St.  Joseph's,  Derby Kinsale. 

1850.  St.  Oswald's,  Lancashire Liverpool. 

1852.  St.  Mary's  Vale,  Oscott Birmingham. 

"       St.  Joseph's,  Brighton Bermondsey. 

1853.  St.  Walburga's,  Lancaster Liverpool 

1855.  St.  John  Baptist's,  Alton Cheadle. 

"  St'.  Bede's,  Newca8tleK)n-Tyne Liverpool. 

"  Immaculate  Conception,  Clifden Oalieay. 

1856.  St.  Elizabeth's  Hospital,  Qt.  Ormond-st.,  .London .  Bermondsey. 

1857.  St.  Mary's,  Belper,  B Derby. 

"  Immaculate  Conception,  HuU Dublin. 

"       Our  Lady  of  lia  Salette,  Wigton Bermondsey. 

St.  Cuthbert,  Wigton 

1858.  Immaculate  Conception,  Finsbury-sq.,  London . .  We3;ford. 


'^ 


j-ift—Mr 


506  APPENDIX. 

BATB  OF  OOSTENTS.  HUATED  rMM 

1858.  St.  Mary's,  Hexham Sunderland. 

1859.  Immaculate  Conception,  East  Road,  London. . . . TvUamore. 
St.  Aufltin'8,  Darlington Sunderland. 

"        St.  Vincent's,  Lancashire,  B Uterpool. 

1860.  St.  John's,  Nottinghamshire Nottingham. 

SS.  Mary  and  Oswin,  North  Shields Newcaslleron-  T. 

Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Abingdon Bei-mondney. 

"        St.  Joseph's,  Qravesend 

St.  Godric's,  Durham Sunderland. 

1861.  St.  Oswald's,  Worcester BdfatA. 

St.  Monica's,  Skipton Uwrpod: 

1862.  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Coventry Ohel%ea. 

„  u  ««         Willburne Dundee. 

u  «  .1        Mary  vale,  StulTordshire Binninghavi. 

u  .<  '.       Isle  of  Mau Liverpool. 

.,.,..--,,..  SCOTLAND. 

1849.  St.  Mary's,  Glasgow Linwrick. 

1868.  St.  Catherine's,  Edinburgh • " 

„  ««  Dundee • . .  .Londondmry, 

a  «  Wilbom.. 

^,  BRITISH  AMERICA. 

1843.    St.  John's,  Nevrfbundland Dublin. 

1857.    Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Edinboro',  N.  Brunswick . . .  Umerick. 

UNITED  STATES. 

1848.  St.  Mary's,  Pittsburgh,  Penn Oarlm. 

1846.  St.  Xavier's,  Latrobe,  Penn.,  B Pittdfwrgh. 

"  Mercy  Hospital,  Pittsburgh,  B 

«  St-Mar/s,  Chicago,  111 " 

St.  Catherine's,  New  York Dublin. 

1848.  Our  Lady  of  Men7,HolIday8burff.  B PUtOurgh. 

u  «  "       Birmingham,  Penn.,  B 

«  C  "       Loretto,  Penn.,  B 

H              -            "       Alleghany,  near  PittBburgh,B.       " 
I860.  "  "       Little  Rock,  Ark N'('<'*' 

"  St.  Catherine's,  Helena 

1851.  St.  Xavier's,  Providence,  B.  I PUtibv/rgh. 

1853.  St.  Mary's,  New  Haven,  Conn Providene*. 

1854.  St.  Catherine's,  Hartford  Conn 


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.  .Belfast. 

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.Ohelsea. 

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.  Birmingham. 
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AFFENPIX. 


rcvMDATioir, 

1864.  St.  Mary's,  Newport,  R.  L ProtMenee. 

Galena,  B.  (reUnqulahed,  1869) Ohicago,  PI. 

"  Divine  Providence,  San  Franciaco,  Cal Kinsaie. 

1866.  St.  Francis',  Brooklyn Ifew  York. 

1860.  St.  Joseph's,  St  Louis,  Mo 

1867.  St.  Mary's,  Rochester,  N.  T Prutidenee. 

1858.  The  Divine  Will,  Cindnnati,  O £inaale. 

"  St.  Joseph's,  BnfiUo Soehetter. 

"  Mount  St.  Mary's,  Manchester,  N.  H ProvideTue. 

1800.  Mercy  Hosi^tal,  Washington,  D.  C PitUburgh. 

1860.  Inunacolate  Conception,  Baltimore,  Md. " 

"  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Vicksburg,  Miss BeUHmore. 

»  ••  "         Pawtuoket,  B.,  R.  I Providence. 

1869.  St.  Joseph's,  Ottawa,  111 OAieago. 

1860.  St.  Augustine,  Florida Providence. 

"  St.  Mary's,  Philadelphia BaHinrdbe,  Ireland 

1862.  St  Joseph's,  Batavia,  N.  Y Bocheater. 

"  St  Bernard's,  Cranston,  B.  I Providence. 

, ,'  "  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Golumbcs,  Qa St.  Auy  Mne. 

"  The  Orphan  Asylum,  Providence Providenee. 

<  St  Mary's  Hospital,  Beaufort,  S.  G.     (Relin- 
quished after  the  late  war.) '. New  York. 

-  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Albany,  N.T " 

«•  "  "        Worcester,  Mass " 

-  "  "        Bangor,  Maine Manehetter. 

^  "  The  Orphan  Asylum,  Chicago Ghieago. 

V  **  Grass  Valley,  Cal.,  B Sati  Frandteo. 

"  Sacramento,  Cal.,  B " 

1860.  Mercy  Hospital,  Chicago,  111 Chicago. 

1803,  Staten  Island,  N.  Y New  York. 

"  FortSmith,Ark Little  Boek. 

•■  St  Bernard's,  Nashville Providf^xce. 

OOEAKICA. 

1846.  The  Holy  Cross,  Perth,  Anstralia Dublin. 

1848.  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Guildford,  Australia Perth. 

"  "  "        Freemantle,      "      " 

1849.  St.  Patrick's,  New  Zealand .Oarlow. 

1866.  StAnne's,B.       "  .  .Anetdand,  N^Z. 

1850.  St.  Patrick's,  Goul  bourne,  Australia Weriport. 

"  Most  Sacred  Heart,  Geclong,      "       Dublin, 

1800.  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  Brisbane,   "      " 


mmm 


508  APPENDIX. 

rOUHSAlXOS* 

1880.    Oar  Lady  of  MeT<7,  QneenfOand,  Anfltralia JhOlia. 

-  "  "        Melboome,         "        " 

SOUTH  AMBEICA. 

1856.    Baenos  Ayres,  St.  Joseph's JDttKftl. 

186».  "  OurLadyofMeroy.B " 

TBMPOBARY    ESTABLISHMENTS. 

1854.    Hospital,  Constantinople,  Turkey. 

"  "      Scutari,  Turkey  in  Ada. 

"  "      Kulilee,  " 

"  "      BaLOdava,  Rusdn. 

These  hoxises  wore  supplied  ftwrn  Dublin,  Cork,  London,  Liverpool, 
etc.    They  were  relinquished  on  the  cessation  of  the  Crimean  war,  1856. 

SUMMARY. 

Convents  of  Merqr  founded  in  Irdandupto  1862 TO 

"  "  "       inEngland   "       "    *1 

"  «  «       inSootland   "        "    4 

-  u  u       in  United  states    "    48 

«  "  "       in  British  America 2 

"  M  «       in  South  America 2 

«  «  «       In  Australia 9 

"  «  «       inNewZealand 8 

188 

Number  since  founded  In  various  places 20 

Temporary  establishments.       ,       0 

Total 212 

Since  the  above  was  written,  le  r.,(ier  of  Mercy  has  been  introduced 
Into  other  parts  of  South  America  and  Australia,  into  Tasmania,  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  the  Isle  of  Man,  etc. 


m^ 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 


:,  London,  Liverpool, 
a  Crimean  vm,  1850. 


Thb  Life  of  Cathbrihb  McAdlet,  Foundress  and  first  Superior  of  the 
Religious  Sisters  of  Mercy.    By  a  Sister  of  Mercy. 

n. 

By  the  Same.  A  Treatisb  on  thk  Knowledob  and  Love  ob'  oub 
LoBD  Jesub  Chbist.  Translated  from  the  French  of  Eev.  J.  B.  Saint 
Jure,  S.  J.    (6  vols,  in  8.) 

in. 

The  REUoiors ;  A  Treatise  on  the  Vows  and  Virtues  of  the  Religious 
State.  Transkted  from  the  French  of  Rev.  J.  B.  Saint  Jure,  S.  J. 
(4  vols,  in  2.) 

rv. 

L'lIoMME  Spdutcel;  The  Spiritual  Life  Reduced  to  its  Principles* 
Translated  from  the  French  of  Rev.  J.  B.  Saint  Jure,  S.  J.  (3  vols,  in  1.) 

V. 

Thb  Lint  of  Blbsskd  MinoiiiKT  Mart,  a  Religious  of  the  Visitation 
Order,  including  a  History  of  that  Order,  and  a  HUtory  of  the  Devotion 
to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  Translated  from  the  French  of  Rev.  Oh. 
Daniel,  S.  J.    With  an  Introduction. 

VI. 
Happt  Houns  or  CBnj>HooD :  A  Series  of  Pious  Storie*  of  the  Young. 


Jl 


I 


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